


Shattered Masks

by dragonwriter24cmf



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Curse Breaking, Curses, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Family Issues, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Memories, POV Alternating, Psychological Trauma, Reconciliation, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22457443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: Henry is cursed by one of Cora's old possessions. The family rallies around, but some curses take more to break than others, and this curse doesn't respond to True Love. Time is running out, and the only chance to save Henry is 'the greatest sacrifice', and all of them fear that paying may cost them Henry anyway. Until an unexpected rescuer steps in, with an even more unexpected solution. But even if Henry survives the curse, can they survive the aftermath of the price to break it?
Relationships: Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan, Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	1. Curses and Counters

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters belong to the creators of Once Upon a Time.

**Shattered Masks**

**Chapter 1: Curses and Counters**

“There has to be something.” 

Emma stared through the glass screen into the ICU room. Inside, Henry lay, small and frail in a hospital gown. A respirator covered his mouth and nose. An IV had been inserted into his elbow. Monitors beeped out his vitals, the sound muffled by the thick glass. She crossed her arms, clenching her hands to avoid lashing out. She really wanted to scream and shout and flail, maybe hit something. Unfortunately, there was no one to strike out at. The room's other occupant was, for once, not a viable target.

“I don't know.” Regina stood by the glass, hands clenched, chin up in that trademark lift that meant the Queen was fighting tears. Emma recognized it. Just as she'd recognized the over-tones of truth and sincerity when she'd sprinted into the hospital room not half an hour ago, demanding to know what Regina had done.

_'It_ _was_ _an_ _accident._ _Henry_ _came_ _to_ _visit_ _me._ _I_ _was_ _in_ _my_ _vault,_ _sorting_ _through_ _some_ _things_ _of_ _my_ _mother's._ _Henry_ _brushed_ _one_ _by_ _accident.'_

She knew Henry had gone to visit his adoptive mother. In the wake of Cora's death, they'd all felt a bit sorry for the Queen. She had been grieving, and Henry had asked to be allowed to go and comfort her, give her solace. Emma had allowed it, knowing how devastating some losses could be.

She knew that of all the things Regina might do, she'd never hurt Henry. Not like this, not deliberately. She wasn't above causing the boy emotional anguish at times, not if she thought it could cause a rift between him and Emma, but something like this wasn't the way Regina did things.

Pounding footsteps interrupted her thoughts. She and Regina both turned as three new figures came racing into the ward. David, Mary Margaret, and Neal. Or Prince Charming, Snow White, and Balefire, if one went by their Enchanted Forest names. The whole thing still confused Emma sometimes.

Mary Margaret looked into the glass, paling as she saw Henry. David paled as well, then whirled on Regina. “What did you do?”

Regina's head tilted up another fraction of an inch, from tears to defensiveness. “I didn't. It was an accident.”

“Really?” David's tone was barely short of a snarl.

“Really.” Emma broke in, physically stepping between her parents and Regina. “Look, I already asked her that, and she said it was an accident.” She held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture.

“And you believe her?” David still looked angry.

“Yes. One, she hasn't done anything since Cora died. Two, I gave Henry permission to go spend time with her, so it's not like this is some plot to get him. Three, my truth thing still works, and she wasn't lying when she answered me. And four, no matter what she does to the rest of us, Regina's never hurt Henry. I mean, the whole reason the curse broke was because she cared more about saving Henry than she did about keeping it active and me away.” Emma stared her father down.

Neal grimaced. “Gotta admit, that makes a lot of sense.”

David huffed. “It does. You're right.” He sighed again, shoulders relaxing. “Fine. So what happened?”

Regina relaxed, just a fraction. “I was in my vault, going through mother's things, when Henry came to find me. He offered to sit with me, talk, help me go through things. Just...spend time with me, I suppose. He wanted to stay, so I let him. While we were working, he happened upon an object that Mother had possessed. I didn't know what it was, so I wasn't able to stop him before he touched it. It cursed him, but I don't recognize the curse. And I don't know how to counter it.”

Emma winced. “About all we do know is that it's fatal. Sooner or later.”

Mary Margaret flinched. “But...True Love's Kiss. It's a sovereign remedy for curses. You broke him out of the Sleeping Spell curse with that, right? So...”

“Tried that. It didn't take.” Emma folded her arms again, gut clenching. “It was practically the first thing I did when I got here. We both did.” She hadn't liked letting Regina try, but Regina did love Henry, so it was as valid as her own.

“And that would be because it's not an ordinary curse.” The smooth voice made all of them turn.

Mr. Gold, better known to others as Rumplestiltskin, or the Dark One, stood in the doorway. His hands were folded carefully over the head of his cane, his eyes on Henry.

Emma took two steps towards him. “What do you know?”

“A great many things, particularly about magic, dearie. I felt that curse activate. I recognize the magic.” Gold strode forward. “It shouldn't come as a surprise, but every person who becomes the Dark One has their reasons. And their...interests. Their pursuits. Their passions. Their...quests, if you will.” His eyes flicked to Neal, then back to Henry. “Every inheritor of the Dark One's power receives some knowledge of his or her predecessors belongings, interests, obsessions and so forth. Possessions, spells and the like. That spell...” He indicated Henry. “Isn't one of mine. It belonged to one of the previous Dark Ones. Magic only knows how Cora got her hands on it. It was supposed to be lost. But, I do know what it does, what it is.”

“Do you know how to break it?” It took all of Emma's control not to shout at him or attempt to shake him. This was Gold. He was like this. Enigmatic, cryptic, always dancing around what needed to be said. Push him too hard and he'd get angry and refuse to speak.

“I do.” He turned his head to look at her, and there was something in his eyes that she couldn't define, and was almost afraid to. Something worse than his cold calculations or anger. “See, the Dark One who created this spell had a particular aversion to...love. True Love in particular. Now, the details aren't known to me, but I do know he set out to create a spell that would defy True Love. That not even love could break. He wasn't entirely successful, of course, but he did create this.” He looked back at Henry. “A curse that slowly destroys its victims, killing them over a matter of hours, days, while their loved ones are forced to watch. A curse that cannot be broken by True Love's Kiss.”

“But it can be broken, right? All curses can be broken.” Emma swallowed hard. She'd never wanted so much for the answer to be yes.

“Oh yeah. Yes, it can be broken. But not by a kiss. Nothing so simple as that. This curse requires a sacrifice.” Gold turned to face the family again, eyes glittering with that strange, terrifying knowledge. “The terms are, I believe, 'the greatest sacrifice'.”

Emma blinked. “So...one of us has to die, or something like that?”

“Nothing so simple, I'm afraid. As amusing as it would be to watch you fight out who should die for the boy, it wouldn't do any good.” One corner of Gold's mouth turned up in a smile, but there was no humor in it, only something knife-edged and vicious, and possibly a little desperate. Emma had seen that smile before sometimes, on marks she cornered. And on Gold, when he'd been demanding her help in finding his son.

Gold continued. “See, I've been watching you. And I know, for a fact, that giving up your own lives isn't anywhere near the greatest sacrifice any of you could make. Matter of fact, with the exception of Bae, none of you seem to value your own lives very much at all. No, what you five value most...it's in there.” He dipped his head towards the window. “You'll sacrifice your lives, your identities, even each other for that boy.”

“So? So you're saying to save Henry...we'd have to kill him?” Neal's voice was a low growl.

“Quite the conundrum isn't it?” That edged smile was back on Gold's face. “Of course, one route might have been to have Regina sign Henry's custody away to Miss Swann, but the strength of the curse...this magic requires a sacrifice that can't be undone.” His eyes flicked over the group. “You might manage, if you two...” He indicated David and Mary Margaret with a flick of his hand. “...were willing to kill her.” He gestured to Emma. “The sacrifice of the daughter you gave up everything for might do it.”

Emma felt her gut freeze, but she couldn't even get a word out before David bristled, stepping in front of her protectively. “That's not gonna happen.”

She swallowed hard. “Look, if there's no other way...”

“No.” Mary Margaret seized her arm and stepped around to face her. “We can't do that, Emma. Even if we were willing, you know what that would do to Henry. What's the point of saving his life if we destroy his spirit?”

“It's better than his death!” Emma bit the inside of her cheek. “Look, he's got a mom, and a dad, and you two. He's known me less than a year. He can bounce back from this.”

“No. He can't.” Regina's quiet voice startled her. She turned to face the Queen. Regina looked at her with calm eyes. “You really think it's that simple? I love Henry, Miss Swann. I've given him everything I could think of to show him just how much. I've even tried to change for him. And even with all of that, he still looks to you.”

“She's right.” Mary Margaret squeezed Emma's arm. Then she turned to face Gold. “There has to be another way.”

“And there is.” Gold's hands tightened on the cane. “There is my way.” His expression tightened.

Emma's gaze jolted to Neal. “Wait, you can't mean...”

“No, no. I don't intend to sacrifice my son, Miss Swann. Bae can tell you I've already done that.” A thin thread of anguish, and anger, moved beneath the calm of Gold's words.

“Then you intend to die? For Henry?” Regina sounded faintly surprised.

Gold laughed, a short, sharp bark of sound that had no more mirth than his smile. “After centuries as the Dark One, I hold my life to even less value than you hold yours. Part of the price, I suppose.”

Mary Margaret froze. “But the candle...Cora...”

Gold snorted. “Just because I told you where that candle was didn't mean I thought you'd actually use it, dearie.” His shoulder shifted in a minute shrug. “Actually, I was expecting you to throw it at me and spit in my face. It was a last ditch possibility that I never expected to come to anything, if you want the truth.” His face was still, expressionless, but Emma read the truth in his words.

“You expected to die.”

“Yes. And I'd made my peace with that. After all, I'd accomplished the one thing I ever intended to do as the Dark One. See my son safe.” Gold's hand tightened on the cane.

Neal's jaw tightened. “You said you had a way to save Henry.”

“I do.” Gold's shoulders tightened. “And, fortunately for all of you, it's not a method that involves killing anyone. Though we all may well wish it had.”

Emma felt her shoulders lock. Something about his words made her feel wary. “What do you mean?”

Gold met her eyes. “I spent over 300 years searching for my son, Miss Swann. But before that, I let him go. Because there was something I was unwilling to let go of even more.” His jaw tightened, and Emma saw regret and grief in his eyes.

“Power.” Neal's voice was rough, ragged with old hurt.

“Not precisely.” Gold's eyes flicked to his son. “Power for power's sake was something Cora sought. I did want power, yes, but not simply to have it.” His hands clenched. “As I once told Belle...it is my safety, my security. My crutch, if you will, as surely as the cane I use in this world.” His hands flexed on the handle, as if to make a point. “What I desire, what I would give up, have given up everything for...”

“Is security. Safety.” Emma felt her throat constrict.

“Invulnerability. Or as near as mortal man can come to it.” Gold nodded. “Very good, Miss Swann.” His gaze flicked to Henry, then to Neal. “But, as I've come to discover, that safety can be taken from me. Or done away with.”

“You'll give up your magic?” David frowned.

“He can't. Not without dying.” Regina frowned. “The only way to cease to be the Dark One is to die, to be killed with his own dagger.”

“Exactly. But there are other ways.” Gold's jaw set. “Including one I will take, if you agree to my conditions.”

Emma swallowed. There was something about his demeanor, about the whole exchange that was making her very nervous. Terrified, actually. Something about Gold's expression. Still, it was for Henry. “What conditions?”

“I have three.” Gold raised one finger. “First, that this be done in a place of my choosing, under the conditions I demand. This is for your own safety, and to some extent mine as well.” Emma nodded. She could see the wisdom of that. Gold lifted a second finger. “Second, there will be someone to watch over myself and the boy at all times, to monitor both of us. You will need to know if the counter is effective.”

“That explains Henry, but why would you want us to monitor you?” David frowned.

“Because my magic is dangerous, and it may get a little uncontrolled. And because there are likely to be side affects to this process that may be hazardous for my health.” Gold's hand clenched on the cane so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Trust me dearie, I've no more liking for the stipulation than you do.”

He was lying about something, but Emma's gut told her it wasn't worth pursuing. At least, not right at the moment. “What's the third condition?”

Gold looked at her. “You are to tell no one what I am doing, or what I have done afterward, with two exceptions. Henry, because he will ask, and I've no wish for the boy to go snooping for answers. And Belle, if and only if she asks for me. You will check on her while I am incapable, and if she inquires, you will tell her the truth. She deserves that much of me.”

That seemed reasonable. Emma looked at the others. Regina nodded. David and Mary Margaret both hesitated, then nodded as well.

Neal was facing his father. “What are you going to do?”

Gold shook his head. “Not something I can explain. However, I imagine you'll sort it out as it happens.” That dark smile twisted his mouth again, but this time with an element of sadness. “Let's just say, it's something I should have done a long time ago.”

Emma stepped forward. “I agree with all your conditions, but...I have one last question. Why are you doing this? You just found out Henry was your grandson. And your track record...it kind of sucks, no offense. So...why? Why volunteer?”

“That's more than one question. And I don't have to answer them. I have my reasons, and that should be enough, dearie.” Emma stared him down. After a moment, Gold's jaw clenched, then relaxed. “Let's make a deal, Miss Swann. Get this done and if, when it's over, Henry survives and you still want answers, I'll give them to you.”

She could live with that. Emma nodded. “So where and how are we gonna do this?”


	2. Rumplestiltskin's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are set in motion...and a price must be paid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some battlefield and post battle scenes at the end. I tried not to be too graphic, but if this an issue for you, be warned.

Where turned out to be a house Gold had purchased as a secondary residence, in case of emergency. On the outside, it was a plain, modest building, single story. On the inside it was well appointed with the subtle elegance and comfort that Emma generally associated with Gold.

Regina had stayed to watch over Henry. The rest of them had come with Gold, so he could show them the conditions they were working under.

Gold led them into the house, only the set of his shoulders and the grimness of his eyes revealing his unease. Emma and Neal wound up leading the others by default, Mary Margaret and David walking as wary shadows behind them.

Gold made no theatrical presentations, no offers for the grand tour or any of the other gestures Emma would have expected. He simply led them down the hall to a room, murmured “Here.” and went inside.

The room on the other side of the door was a bedroom. Well appointed, with a large comfortable looking mattress that Emma would have bet cost a month's salary. There was an attached bathroom as well and everything was neat and tidy, almost to the point of looking unlived in. The only things out of place in the model home look were the chains.

There were four of them, two secured to the foot-board, two to the headboard. They were long, heavy and thick. Emma stared at them.

“I put them in before I came to the hospital.” Gold's voice startled her out of he study of them.

She stared at him as he stepped past her, set his cane to the side, then stripped off his jacket and braced himself to remove his shoes. “Why?”

“Because I am likely to be under stress and in such cases my magic is a tad...unpredictable.” Gold looked up, baring teeth in a shark's smile. “And you already know of my penchant for physical violence, when it suits me. Trust me dearie, you'll be lucky if these hold.” Gold removed his second shoe, then set both to the side and undid his tie.

The whole scene looked eerily familiar. It took Emma a moment to place it, and then her stomach clenched. “You're going to poison yourself.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. It's not fatal, if that's what you're worried about. Uncomfortable, yes, but not fatal. And it will allow me to fulfill my end of the bargain.” Gold set his tie to the side and settled on the edge of the bed.

“Wait a second.” Neal stepped forward, but Gold raised his head to look at him, and the younger man stopped.

“I know what I'm doing.” Gold hesitated, then spoke softly, his voice pleading. “I know you've no reason to trust me Bae, but I'm asking you to, for this. For your son. I swear to you, I know what I'm doing. And this has to be done.” Another painful pause. “I promise, I'll tell you everything, after.”

Neal stood a moment longer. Then he stepped forward and took his father's hand. “It's a deal. And you'd better hold up your end of it this time.”

Gold looked up at him, gratitude in his eyes. “I will, Bae. I will.” He clenched his hand around his son's, head dipping briefly to brush Neal's arm. Then he leaned back. “Help me.”

David and Mary Margaret stood to the side while Emma and Neal helped Gold get comfortable on the bed. At Gold's request, Neal was the one who locked the manacles in place, his hands careful and gentle as he made sure there was a cushion of cloth between his father's skin and the cold metal. Emma helped arrange the pillows to prop him up, as comfortable as possible. Then Gold nodded at a small cabinet above the dresser. “In there.”

Mary Margaret opened the cabinet to find a vial. She lifted it out, and Gold gestured. “Give it to me.”

Mary Margaret brought it forward, but hesitated before dropping it into his hand. “Are you sure? You don't have to...”

“Yeah, I do.” Gold took the bottle and examined the contents, then worked it open. He looked up at the four surrounding his bed. “After I drink this, I'll fall into a trance. Rather like a coma, actually. And after that, it'll begin. Whatever happens, whatever you see, whatever you hear, whatever I do, you cannot break the spell. Don't try to wake me. For this to truly save Henry, it has to take it's course, and you have to see it. Understand?”

Emma nodded along with the rest, but couldn't help the question that slipped from her mouth. “Why do we have to see it?”

Gold's eyes flicked to her. “There's no point in vulnerability if there's no one there to witness it.” Before she could say anything further he took a deep breath and swallowed the contents of the vial in one quick gulp.

Whatever the potion was, it was fast acting. Gold barely had time to swallow before his eyes fluttered closed and he went limp against the pillows, head lolling slightly. Neal caught the vial as it rolled from his grip.

Magic flickered over Gold's still form, purple-black and glimmering blue. Seconds later, Emma's phone rang. She dug it out and flicked it open, seeing Regina's number. “Hey. Something happen?”

“Yes. There was magic. The doctor is checking Henry now but...he seems to be breathing better. What happened?”

“Gold started something. No details on what he's doing, but right now he's unconscious, and there was a burst of magic here too. Purple and blue and black.” Emma swallowed hard, feeling something clench in her gut. Whatever else Gold was, he was Neal's father, and Henry's grandfather. Family. It meant something, even if she wasn't sure what it meant, or what she wanted it to mean.

“Whatever he's doing is fighting the curse.” Regina sounded as surprised as Emma felt.

“I guess so. We're just going to have to wait and see.” Emma couldn't take her eyes away from the still figure on the bed.

“I guess we will. I'll keep you updated on Henry's condition if you'll keep me updated on Gold's.”

“Deal.” Emma snapped the phone closed and shoved it back into her pocket. She and Neal shared a look, then left the room. Emma found a dining room and took two chairs, while Neal grabbed two more. They dragged them back to Gold's room and arranged them around the bed. Then Emma flopped into one on one side, and Neal into another across from her.

Neal sighed. “I guess we wait.”

Emma grimaced, not liking the feeling of unease snaking around her spine. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

*****SM*****

He fell and fell, into the darkness. Into fire, into emptiness. Terror clutched at his heart. He knew what he was falling to, and he wanted desperately not to land. But he was going to.

Pain wrenched at him, soul deep and agonizing, and he cried out. He didn't know which was worse, the pain or the knowledge that worse, far worse, awaited him.

He landed with a thump in a dark, featureless area. He couldn't make out what he was standing on, only dimness all around him. Fear trickled through him, mounting to dread. He didn't want to be alone here.

He was terrified of the specter he knew would come, and what it would mean.

“Well, well. Here we are dearie.” The voice hissed and snickered out of the darkness, sending chills wracking through him. A shape resolved out of the dimness.

Rumplestiltskin stood shivering as the Dark One emerged from the shadows, leering coldly at him. The Dark One laughed. “Interesting trick that. I wonder what you hoped to accomplish.”

He swallowed down terror and tried to force his trembling limbs to still. “You know what I mean to do. And why I've done this.”

“So I do. So I do.” The Dark One snickered, pacing with restless energy around him, gleeful and malevolent. He stood still, resisting the urge to bolt away, to seize the Dark One and subjugate him, end this by dragging his darker half back and breaking the spell. “Save little Henry, by making yourself acknowledge your own wrong-doings, your regrets. That's why you used the Shattered Mask Spell, of course. But are you sure? There's no going back. Once I drag you into the dark, you can't return until the end. And that's a long list to live through dearie. After all, your regrets with Balefire and Belle are only the tip of the iceberg, as it were. Really want to go through it all? For a boy who's meant to be your downfall someday?”

“I've made my decision.” And how he wanted to take it back. But he had made a deal. He had promised his son. He couldn't break his promise to the boy a second time. And Henry....for all he feared the boy, Henry was his grandson. “Get on with it.”

“As you wish.” The Dark One made a mocking bow. Then cruel hands seized his shoulder, yanked him into oblivion once more.

He landed in a camp he knew, in a memory that had haunted his waking moments. The night he had listened to a seer's prophecy, and set himself on the path that had doomed him. Until that night, he had been an honorable man. Perhaps not the bravest of men, but honorable and strong and determined to do right. Determined to prove himself.

“Know this, don't you? First step to becoming me.” The Dark One paced beside him, snickering coldly.

“I just wanted to be there for my son. I didn't want to leave him fatherless.” A lump formed in his throat.

“That's not everything, dearie. You know it's not.” The Dark One hissed in his ears, sneered in his face and he flinched, even as he watched himself shrinking into a corner, eyes wide and fearful, expression desperate.

“I didn't want to leave Bae fatherless.” His voice trembled.

“But there were other ways. You'd seen them. You knew them. Could have chosen one of those. Something a little more...heroic?” The Dark One leered. “Come on now, mustn't keep lying to yourself dearie. You know the truth.”

And he did. There were so many other paths he could have taken.

He could have lied to the commanders. Everyone knew he'd been guarding the seer. He could have told them she'd told him their plan would end in disaster. Or he could have gone into battle, and done something to be wounded there. The front lines were a brutal place. How hard would it have been, really, to sustain a severe injury, but not a fatal one? Perhaps difficult, but not impossible.

He knew how to lame horses temporarily and not get caught. He'd worked with farm animals before. Delay the army's plans. And if he had been caught, again there was the seer's warning. He could even have gone among his fellow soldiers. Enough of them were superstitious. Whispers of a seer's warning would have flown through the camp, and might have been enough to slow or halt the plan of attack.

He had justified himself as not wanting to leave his son fatherless, but the truth was that wanting to avoid the battle wasn't what had damned him. What had damned him was failing to try to save more lives than his own. He'd given no care to the consequences, not even that his son would endure the burden he himself had fought so hard to get free of, the stigma of being a coward's son.

“Too afraid to take a risk, eh? Too afraid to lose face. But you did lose it.” The Dark One's words mocked him. “Could have tried. Could have made an effort for the others. I wonder...how many other men died in that battle you avoided?”

Too many. He'd still been in the recovery tent when they had returned, their numbers dramatically thinned. And he'd spent more sleepless nights than he could ever admit, wondering if he could have saved lives. For all that he was no soldier by trade, he had turned out to be a fair hand with weapons. If he'd gone, even with the intent of being injured too badly to fight again, could he have saved some of those who died?

He bowed his head, knowing the moment for what it was, a moment of selfishness and cowardice. He had decided his life was worth more than any other man's. That his child was too important to lose a father, as though no other soldier on the field risked leaving behind sons and wives. Many children had been left fatherless, many wives widowed by the Ogre Wars.

“Finally got the measure of it, have you dearie? Seen the truth. This might have been the more innocent of it, but this was your first moment of darkness. Maybe a shade of grey, only the tiniest little shadow of what you became, but here's the first stain on your heart.” The mocking words beat at him, pounding in his mind.

“I know it.” His throat was thick. “I know it. I was selfish. I was a coward.” He lifted his head, feeling desperation curling in his heart. “I understand. Please...I don't need to see this...”

“No. I think you do. All the way to the moment they dismiss you.”

The scene switched, and they were in the medical tent. He was lying in a cot, leg elevated, bandages around his shattered bones. Shouting rose outside, causing the medics to come to instant attention, faces grim as a runner burst in, gasping out breathless news of the wounded. The tent burst into a flurry of activity. He was moved to make way for the soldiers, sitting in a chair so the more heavily wounded could be put in cots. Then the fallen began to arrive.

It was horrific. Blood and screaming and the smell of cauterizing irons filled the air. Men writhed, begged, clawed and pleaded, and were drugged unconscious or made drunk to numb their pain. His memory self closed his eyes. After a long moment, Rumplestiltskin did too.

Nothing could stop the screams and howls from echoing in his ears. Or the scent of blood and burned flesh and seared bone from filling his nose. Eyes closed, Rumplestiltskin stood amidst the carnage and wept in helpless fury at the choice he had made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's begun, and more to come.


	3. Seeing Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations are had within the dreamscape, and without.

Emma watched as Gold slept. She had no idea what was going on, what his spell or potion was supposed to do.

Half an hour later, Gold jerked in his sleep. His face twisted in anguish, head tossing from side to side. “I know, I know...” His voice was a breathless whisper, full of pain and what to her sounded like regret.

Neal leaned forward to shake his shoulder, but Emma caught his hand. “You can't wake him, remember?”

Neal froze, then settled back. “Yeah.” He looked down into his father's face. “I know. It's just...it's been a while, you know? Since I saw him look like that.”

“Look like what?”

“Like that.” Neal tilted his head towards Gold's pained expression. “He used to look like that a lot. Like he was hurting. Ashamed.” He shook his head. “My father, he ducked out of a war. He always said it was because he didn't want to leave me fatherless. The villagers called him a coward. So did my mother. Some days, it was bad. Kids teasing me in the village, mocking me, beating me up. Because of him. He always knew. He never did anything but, when I came home after a bad day, he'd take me in his arms and hold me. Just pull me to his chest with that expression on his face. Every time, it was the same.”

“What was?” She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she had to ask. She had a feeling it was important.

“He'd hold me, rocking a little on his stool. Stroke my hair. And he'd whisper the same thing over and over again. 'I'm sorry Bae. I'm so sorry, my boy. Someday, I hope you'll understand, I hope you'll forgive me.' Every time.” Neal looked at her, eyes shining with grief. “Back then, I knew my Papa loved me. More than anything in the world. After he became the Dark One, he never did that again. And he never had that look. Except for the night he let me go.”

“Did you forgive him? For being what he was?”

“I never cared until the day he was too scared to come with me to this world.” Neal looked at her. “But you know, as much as I hated him for letting me fall, I kind of hated myself too. I'd always promised myself I'd never use those words. The words the villagers used to mock him. But that night, when he was afraid, I called him a coward. I tried to make him feel guilty, to hurt him into doing what I wanted him to do.” Neal shook his head, a pained laugh on his face. “I never admitted that to anyone, you know? But I can't forget it either.”

Emma squeezed his hand comfortingly. “He spent centuries looking for you. I don't think he cares what you said to him. But when this is over, whatever this is, you two can talk, and if it makes you feel better, you can apologize to him. And he can apologize to you.”

“He already did.” Neal looked down at the sleeping man between them. Gold's face was still twisted in pain. “When he came to find me. When he was dying from Hook's poison.”

“Then when he wakes up, you guys make it right.” Emma clenched his hand. “Trust me, I know how you feel, kind of.” She looked at Mary Margaret and David, standing together on the other side of the room. “Fixing things, it's worth it.”

“Yeah.” Neal nodded. “As soon as Henry's okay and he wakes up.” He gave her hand a squeeze and offered her a weak smile, then both of them settled back into their chairs to wait.

*****SM*****

The transition from the battlefield startled him. It also left him with no time to prepare as he was hurled into another memory.

The day Milah had run away with Hook. He had gone to the ship, but had refused to fight. He watched his memory self bow his head in defeat. “I know what happened here.” His voice was hoarse.

“Yes, yes you do. But have you admitted the truth? Don't think you have.” The Dark One snickered at him. “Admit it now. Tell the truth. Tell yourself the truth now.” The whisper shivered through his head like nails on slate. “Come on now, so much to see. Wouldn't want that grandson of yours to perish before we've even gotten started.”

A lump filled his throat as he watched himself quivering on the deck of the boat. “I could have picked up the sword. I could have fought.” He'd learned enough as a soldier to have made at least a passable effort, even if he couldn't have won.

“And you might have won Milah back. At least you'd have parted on better terms. And you'd have proved yourself.” Cold, oily laughter. “Funny, you could find the strength to storm a castle with nought but homemade torches for a dagger, but not to fight a pirate one-on-one for your wife.”

“The dagger was to protect Bae!” Anger flickered in him a moment. Then it died in his shame. “But this...I could have fought for her.” Milah might not have loved him, but she would have seen him be brave. He would have been able to tell Balefire that he had at least tried to get his mother back. Instead of lying to the boy that Hook had killed her.

He could have earned some measure of respect from Hook. The pirate had a curious code of ethics. He probably would have avoided the killing blow in the end. There was no glory in killing a crippled man, after all. He'd had no goods, no money worth taking. And if Hook had been the type to kill for nothing, then his surrender wouldn't have saved him.

And he knew it. He'd known it then. He'd known it looking at Hook. But he'd been too much a coward to dare Hook's sword. He'd hid instead behind his son, using Balefire as an excuse once again to avoid a fight. “It was a lie.”

“It became a habit. Hide behind your son. Make excuses because of the boy.”

“It did.” Even after Balefire had fallen through the portal, he had done it. In fact, even more so. He had manipulated entire kingdoms on the excuse of 'for my son'. He had twisted the fate of worlds with that excuse.

The truth was laid bare in his heart, and it was ashes.

“Finally seeing the truth, are we? About time. After all, there's this little moment...”

Wrench. He was standing in a path, surrounded by soldiers. The leader laughed mockingly, and told him to kneel. To kiss his boot. And he did, and was rewarded with a kick to the face, blood on his mouth, and the knowledge that Balefire had witnessed his humiliation.

After his transformation, he had gloried in his hatred of the men, delighted in making the captain kiss his boot, then slaughtering his entire force in retaliation for what had been done to him.

He had never admitted to anyone, not even himself, that he had hated himself for not standing up to the men. For not offering to fight. For not defending Balefire with pride and honor, rather than cringing and grovelling. His son had showed more spirit and strength than he, even if it had been unwise.

“And then, of course, there's this little moment. The moment you fell over the edge. The moment you...became me.” An insane goblin giggle sounded in his ears.

He stood in a clearing with a dagger clenched in his fist. He summoned the Dark One named on the blade. He challenged him, commanded him. Then he killed him.

Rumplestiltskin fell to his knees, choking.

There was no coming back from murder. And murder he had committed, there in the dark clearing that night.

“Your first unforgivable act. The first true blackening of your heart. You always said it was for your son, but we both know that isn't true, don't we?” The Dark One hissed in his ears.

“No...” His head bowed, throat closing as he tried to swallow.

To control the Dark One, that he might have justified as being for Bae. But the murder...there was no excuse for the murder. Not when there were so many other options available to him.

He could have had the Dark One take him and Bae somewhere safe, away from the fighting. An easy task for a being of such power.

He could have done as Belle had done, commanded the Dark One to stop the ogres, stop the wars. He had first hand experience with how simple such an order was to fulfill. Ogres were vicious, but against the Dark One, little more than a nuisance.

He could have bargained the Dark One's freedom for safety, security, protection for his son. Or even simply commanded it.

He had known that all of those were options. He had taken none of them.

Instead, he had given in to the worst of himself that night. Let his fear, his anger, his self-loathing and his hatred of the men who had humiliated him take over. And he had committed murder. In some ways, he had killed not only the Dark One that night, but himself as well. He had smothered the better, truer part of his nature in blackness, allowed the monster the Dark One's power aroused in him to rise to the surface and take over.

Tears of raw self-loathing streaked his face. “It wasn't for Bae...I did this. I...did this. Because I was angry, because I was a coward, too weak to stand up to anyone. Because I was drunk on power.”

“And the mask comes off.” A cold, cruel hand fell on his shoulder. “And now we get to see what you did with that power.”

His body froze in horror. What he had done...he remembered it. Before his quest to find Balefire, he had been petty in his violence. But the things he had done even then, the violence, the cruelty...Balefire had accused him of terrorizing people and leaving him friendless, and he hadn't been wrong.

“No...I don't need to see that.”

“Oh, but you do. That's the rules. That's the price. Every. Single. Last. Act.” The Dark One laughed. “Every single stain that you've tried to justify dearie.”

“No...” He had no time to murmur anything more before the memory dissolved around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I'm not trying to badmouth, Rumplestiltskin. These memories are supposed to reveal the worst of his character, so they are a bit one-dimensional. Not the whole picture, I know.


	4. Shattered Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Neal get some more information on Gold's spell, while Rumplestiltskin gets a good look at his first years as the Dark One.

Emma was drowsing in the chair when Gold gave a full body shudder, almost convulsing on the bed. The movement startled her awake, jerking her out of her seat. Across the bed, Neal jumped as well. “What? What's happening?”

Gold moaned, trembling where he lay. “No...” The man's face contorted, twisting in pain and rage and grief. “No...”

He shuddered again, hands flexing in the chains. “No...I did this...I did this...” He tugged at his restraints, groaning.

Emma watched, shocked, as a tear slid from his closed eyes and down his cheek, body twisting as though he was trying to curl up, to hide. “No...I don't....”

Emma looked up, wide-eyed, at Neal. “What the hell?”

“I don't know. I've never seen him like this. Except last month, when he was dying of poison. He was pretty messed up then.”

“You think this is killing him?” Emma felt ice in her stomach. She didn't want to have to choose between Gold's life and Henry's. Just because she didn't like Gold, that didn't make a choice like that any simpler.

“He said it wasn't. But I've got no idea what it is doing to him.” She didn't need to read minds to know that Neal was well aware his father might have lied.

Emma watched Gold. He was trembling, his expression one of anguish. “Then we should call in an expert.” She turned to her parents, both of whom were watching Gold with wary expressions. “David...you stay with Neal. Mary Margaret, you come with me. I'll need you watch Henry.” Her mother nodded and stood up. She gave her husband a quick kiss.

Emma turned back to Neal. She reached across and gave his hand a squeeze. “We'll figure this out.”

Neal's mouth tightened. “Yeah. But if we have to choose between him and Henry...”

“We'll cross that bridge if we come to it.” She held his hand a moment longer, then let go and turned to Mary Margaret, who already had her purse slung over her shoulder. “Let's go.” Mary Margaret nodded and followed her out the door.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up at the hospital and made their way to intensive care. Regina was sitting and watching Henry, but she stood up quickly as they approached. “What's happened?”

“It's Gold. He's...it's not good. But we have no idea what spell he put himself under, and we were hoping you'd be able to identify it.” Emma looked at her son, still lying silent on the white hospital bed. “How's Henry?”

“Stable. He's even improved marginally. Doctor Whale thinks if he keeps up, they might be able to take him off the respirator. He couldn't say when though.” Regina looked at her son as well.

“Great. We should have one of us back here by then. For now, I'd like to let Mary Margaret watch Henry, and you come to Gold's place and see what you can tell us. If this spell is fatal, we need to know.”

“Of course.” Regina's lips pursed, eyes hardening as she looked at Mary Margaret. Then she visibly got a hold of herself, shelving her anger for a more appropriate time. “We should go and come back as soon as possible.”

“Right.” Emma glanced at Mary Margaret. “Notify us if anything, and I mean anything, changes.”

“Of course.” Emma held her gaze a moment, then led Regina out of the ward and down to her car.

The drive back was tense, neither of them willing to speak, and both quietly fretting over the child they'd left behind. Emma was more than relieved when she pulled up to the house and led Regina inside. “This way.”

David met them in the hall outside the door. “Emma.”

“Any change?”

David shook his head. “Not significantly. Well, I mean...he's a little worse.” He winced.

“Great. We need to get in there.” Emma nudged the man who was her father aside and led Regina into the bedroom.

On the bed Gold was shivering, head pushed back into the pillows as he shuddered and moaned. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his hands were in white-knuckled fists. Emma was shocked to see tear tracks on his face. “Neal?”

Neal shook his head. “I dunno. He keeps muttering snatches, but I can't tell what it's about.”

“Let me see.” Regina moved to the bedside and extended one hand over the stricken man. Her hand glowed with magic for a moment, then faded. One eyebrow rose. “Well, well. I'm impressed.”

“What is it?”

“The Shattered Mask Spell.” Regina dropped her hand. “Hard to say what's more surprising, that someone like him could cast that particular spell, or that he'd have the guts to do so.”

“Why? What's it do?” Emma moved to look at Gold.

“It forces it's target to face the worst of themselves.” Regina watched as Gold flinched on the bed. “The spell makes the victim relive his or her worst deeds, worst actions, every failure, every evil act. It forces them to relive those actions until they admit their failings and show remorse. It used to be a punishment for criminals. Most of them committed suicide after the spell was lifted.”

“What the hell?” Emma felt bile churning in her throat.

“That ain't funny.” Neal had stiffened, his hands clenched into fists.

“Of course not. But it's true.” Regina's eyes drifted over Gold's prone form. “The spell can't take effect on a person with a truly blackened heart, or someone incapable of feeling remorse. I would have thought the Dark One would be immune, but it appears I was mistaken.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” Emma swallowed hard. “You said you didn't think he would cast this spell.”

Regina shook her head. “Rumplestiltskin is a survivor. He would have to know the effects of this curse.” Regina met Emma's eyes. “I've been the Evil Queen for longer than you've been alive, Miss Swann. A spell like this would tear my mind to shreds. But Gold...” her mouth twisted in a frown. “Gold's been the Dark One, the manipulator in the shadows, for well over two centuries. How much blackness, how many regrets, do you think are on his soul?”

“Crap.” Emma felt her heart sink.

“We gotta wake him.” Neal reached out to his father, but Emma and Regina both caught his wrist.

Emma shook her head. “We wake him, and Henry dies.” She met Neal's gaze, seeing the anger and the hurt there. “Look, I don't like it either, but he chose this. He chose to save Henry. And Regina's right, he had to know the cost. You know he'll never forgive us if we don't honor his wishes.”

“Emma...”

She tightened her grip. “We'll just have to be prepared for when he wakes. We're already watching him, we'll just extend the watch until we're sure he won't do anything drastic.”

“Like kill himself.” Neal;s eyes flared with a mix of pain and anger, and not a little fear.

“Exactly. Like kill himself. We can set up a suicide watch. Besides, he has you here. And Henry. That might be enough to hold him back.”

“It wasn't before.” Neal stared down at his father. Finally, he relaxed and drew back. “Fine. But if he dies...”

“I get it. We're screwed. But let's not borrow trouble, okay? I think we've got enough on our plates as it is.” Emma huffed out a breath. “Let's just...keep watch for now.”

“Yeah.” Neal stood staring at his father's tormented face for a long moment, then dropped back into his chair. “For now.”

*****SM*****

The memories came one after another, a relentless stream. Every act of cruelty. Every deal, every moment of casual violence. The people he had destroyed and killed, the families he had torn apart. The lives he had ruined in one form or another.

Rumplestiltskin knelt, tears washing over his face, soul wrenched with each new image. There was the man he had turned into a slug and killed. He'd claimed it was because the man had knocked Bae down and injured him, but Balefire's injury had been trifling. He could have healed a hundred such wounds with the same magic he'd used to transform the man. And there had been no reason to squish the man.

And he hadn't even listened when his own son had begged him not to do it.

He'd been too busy enjoying it. Enjoying having the power of life and death over the common folk. Enjoying watching the faces that had once sneered and spit on him tremble and flinch away in fear.

The Dark One hissed and giggled in his ears, laughing at each new image. Laughing as he cringed from each cruel deed, from the death and destruction he wove in his wake. “You used to blame this on me, dearie. Used to say it was the curse. But that isn't the whole truth, now is it? Is it?”

“No...”

The Dark One crouched beside him. “Admit it, dearie. You enjoyed this. You liked having the power. Feeling the life slip through your fingers, seeing them afraid, seeing them cower. Seeing them bend over to kiss your boots. Come on now, admit it.”

“I just...I wanted...” His voice broke.

“Ah-ah, no lies now. You know the rules.” The Dark One wiggled a finger in his face.

“Yes.” His voice cracked. “I...I wanted them to bow. I wanted them to fear me. They...they called me a coward and spat on me. I wanted to pay them back.”

“And you did, dearie. A dozen times over, didn't you? And you loved every minute of it. Even more than you loved the son you claimed to want to protect. The son you claimed you were doing everything for.”

How many times had Bae begged him to stop? Begged him not to make the deals? Begged him to spare the townsfolk? How many times had Bae asked him to stop using the power, especially to hurt people?

Too many to count. At first, he'd done as Bae asked him to. But then he'd stopped listening. He'd claimed that he was only sending a message, keeping people in line. Keeping Bae safe by making everyone too frightened to touch him.

“I...”

“Didn't listen because you didn't want to dearie.”

It was true. He hadn't listened. And it had nothing to do with protecting Bae.

He watched himself, listened to the sneering laughter echoed in the Dark One beside him. Watched the cruel smirk on his own face.

Watched himself drunk on power and reveling in it. A monster.

He remembered what he'd once taught Cora, about magic and emotion. How he'd taught her to spin straw into gold using the power of her anger and humiliation, her desire for vengeance.

_ 'I want their knees to crack from kneeling on the stone, and their necks to break from bending.' _

He'd laughed when she told him that. Because he'd enjoyed having the power to make it so.

He watched himself casually brutalize his serving woman, a mute. Because she had seen his dagger. Listened to himself laugh about it afterward, brushing off Bae's horrified protest with a snicker and a joke.  _ 'Well, she might have drawn a picture.' _

He looked at his son's horrified face.

The Dark One bent and laughed in his ear. “Seeing it now aren't we dearie? Seeing a truth we didn't want to see? Go on. Say it out loud. Words are power, and you've got to speak them to go on.”

“I drove him away. And I didn't care. I said I was doing it to keep him safe, but I just didn't care. And I...” The words choked him.

“Out with it. Haven't got all day.”

“I broke his trust in me. His faith in me. It wasn't just the portal where I failed him. It was here, now. Every time I used my power. Every time I hurt someone when I didn't need to. Every time I did this...” His voice cracked and broke.

“So you did. So you did. Not a nice feeling is it? Breaking your boy's heart to the point he thought he had to go worlds away. To where he wanted to cross realms just to stop...you.” The Dark One laughed.

Rumplestiltskin bowed his head, curling into a ball of anguish as the truth assailed him. “I failed to protect him from me...I hurt my boy the worst….” He choked. “I'm sorry….”

“More to see now, more to see.” The Dark One's hand seized his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes in agony as a new memory formed around him.

He had failed his son in every way that mattered, and had been so power drunk he hadn't even seen it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so...Emma and Neal are parents. And so is Regina. And the imp is a psycho. I'll leave it to you to decide if it's because the Dark One IS a psychopath, or if he's colored by Rumplestiltskin's perceptions.


	5. What Was Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, Rumplestiltskin lost his son. In the present, both of them face the consequences and emotions behind a choice made centuries ago.

Emma shifted in her seat, grimacing.

It had been just over a day since Gold had cast the spell on himself. Regina had told them the spell would take a long time to execute, so they'd agreed to take shifts on watching Gold, watching Henry, resting and taking care of business. All except Neal, who stubbornly stayed by his father's side, dozing in snatches and eating whatever was placed in his hands. He barely even left to use the bathroom.

He was currently asleep, head pillowed on his arm on the side of the bed, where his hand held his father's. Emma watched him sleep, feeling a sad smile creep over her face.

She couldn't blame him. She knew how rocky things were between father and son, knew Neal was still angry at the man who had let him fall to this world alone. But she'd also heard Gold that day dying in his shop. The words he'd spoken.

_ 'I'm full of love. I spent a lifetime looking for you. For a chance to say I love you.' _

She'd watched Neal take his father's hands, holding him, anchoring him. Watched them, two men side by side, twin expressions of grief on their faces. So much anger, so much grief, so much love between them that it had hurt to watch.

Gold's face was still twisted in pain, reflection of whatever memory he was enduring. Emma took a hand towel and dunked it in the bowl Mary Margaret had brought in hours ago, then used the water to wipe away the tears and sweat on Gold's face.

Gold flinched, anguish scoring lines in his face. “I'm sorry...”

She wondered who he was apologizing to. He'd been saying that for hours, muttered snatches of regret and remorse and confession.

“Wonder what that was about.” Emma jerked, startled.

Neal had woken at his father's cry and was watching him with sad eyes.

Emma swallowed hard. Then she sat back down and looked at him until Neal looked her in the eyes. “You wanna talk?”

She thought he might refuse, but after a moment Neal sighed. “My dad, before he became the Dark One...he was pretty different. Not like the man you know at all. Not like he was after the curse here either.”

“Yeah? What was he like?”

“Gentle. Kind. People called him a coward. I don't know, maybe he was. But he never hurt anyone. He never used violence. My mama would scream and shout and insult him, and he'd never even raise his voice. The villagers would sneer at him, and he'd look ashamed, but he'd never...he never got angry. The only man I knew who never raised a hand to anyone.”

He took a deep breath. “There was a family I stayed with. Used to talk about religion and stuff. One time, the other kids, they got into a fight, and their mom sat 'em down, gave them this lecture about settling things peaceful, turning the other cheek. And all I could think about was how my papa was, before he took the curse. And maybe I was a little ashamed of being the coward's son but...he was a good man. And then the Duke started taking kids for the war, and he went and took the Dark One's dagger, took the curse...and he...” Neal stopped, shook his head.

Emma let him stay quiet for a few minutes, then spoke softly. “He what?”

“He changed. The day after, when the soldiers came for me...it was like looking at a completely different person. He humiliated them, and then he killed them. Just, one, two, three, dagger to the heart. Like a born assassin, he was so fast. No hesitation. And I knew, I knew then...he wasn't my papa any more. He was a stranger wearing my dad's face and clothes, using my dad's voice and his words. The next few years, I kept trying, kept trying to bring him back, to get my dad back, to find some shred of the man he used to be, but...”

“Didn't work?”

“He just kept getting worse and worse.” Neal shook his head again. “He just...the deals, the violence...I was playing in the street one day, bunch of other kids, and one of the farmers accidentally clipped me with his cart. It was an accident, and it was my fault. I ran out in front of his donkey. Fell and skinned my knee. It wasn't serious. But then he showed up...everyone was falling over themselves to get out of his way. And he saw my knee...he turned that guy into a slug and stepped on him. Man with a family, who never did him any harm or anything. Because he could.”

“Geez.” She'd wondered why everyone seemed wary of Mr. Gold. She knew he had power equal to Regina, but that kind of history…he sounded worse than the worst mob boss in New York. “Sounds pretty brutal.”

“That's what the Dark One is. And there wasn't anything I could do to stop him. After a while, he just didn't listen to me. He took care of me, got me clothes and art supplies and food and everything I needed but...it wasn't the same. It was never the same after he got cursed.”

Emma nodded. “Is that why you're angry at him? I mean, besides the deal he broke with you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then Neal nodded. “Yeah. I guess so.” He heaved out a long breath. “He kept saying I was important to him, and I just keep wondering...if that was true, why didn't he listen to me?”

Emma thought about Henry. About all the mistakes she'd made with him. “Sometimes, when you're a parent, it's hard. Especially if you wind up in a role, a position, you aren't prepared for. I mean, when I came here, with Henry….” She laughed a little. “I wasn't ready to be a mother. Really wasn't ready. And then he expected me to be this...this savior, this curse-breaking miracle woman or something, kept telling me about all these things, about the people here and the people there in your world. And on top of that, I became the deputy, and then the sheriff, and I was fighting with Regina, and I was still trying to figure out how to be a mom...” She shook her head. “After a while, I just...I stopped listening. It was too much, too hard. I couldn't deal with it. In the end, I might never have listened if Henry hadn't poisoned himself and put himself under the Sleeping Curse to make me listen.”

She studied Gold's sleeping face, twisted in anguish. “Somehow, I don't think your dad expected to become the Dark One. Maybe he never expected to be more than the man he was when he was your dad. And...maybe he just got overwhelmed too.”

Neal sat for a long moment, his hand flexing restlessly around his father's. “You think so?”

Emma considered. She hadn't liked Gold when she'd first come to Storybrooke. She wasn't sure she liked him now. But she'd learned a lot about him after the curse broke, and on the trip to New York. He was a complicated man. But she'd seen him with Neal, and with Belle, and some with Henry when he'd realized the boy was his grandson. There was no denying that what he cared for, he cared for fiercely. “I think it's a possibility you shouldn't discount too quickly.”

Neal studied her face for a moment, then jerked his head in one short nod. “Okay.”

*****SM*****

He'd almost lost track of the unending images of brutality. His tears had long since dried, his soul too wracked with guilt to do anything more than watch in agony as each new atrocity was shown to him. Each unfair deal, each act of casual brutality pierced him with shame, but he had no more strength to react, not even to the Dark One's insane laughter in his ears.

And then they fell into a memory he knew better than almost any other, a memory that had haunted his mind and seared his soul for centuries.

A moonlit night in a clearing, where Bae held out his hand with a magic bean sparkling on it, and told him how he'd found a route to another world, a land without magic. A world where they could start over, and the curse would be reduced to nothing.

He was on his feet before he could think, reeling back. “No. Please...no. I can't watch this.”

“No choice about that, dearie. After all, this is one of the big ones, isn't it? One of the big milestones in your fall into Darkness.” The Dark One snickered at his side.

“Please...no...” He lurched forward as Balefire dropped the bean on the ground and a howling vortex appeared.

He watched, stricken, as he and his son both tumbled into the void, stopped by his dagger in the ground, his hand locked upon the hilt.

“You broke the deal...” The Dark One's voice was a mocking sing-song in his ears.

Bae was screaming at him to honor his deal, to keep his promise. He was screaming that he couldn't. And then Bae's hand slipped in his.

Bae's scream changed, from anger to fear. From 'keep your promise' to 'don't let go'.

“Oh Gods...please...I know I did wrong, I know I was a coward. I know I failed him, betrayed him. I know I was a fool. I made the wrong choice. I was too arrogant, too addicted to power.” He wanted the memory to stop, wanted to close his eyes and stopper his ears.

Bae slipped and disappeared into the howling void.

“NO! Bae!” The scream ripped from his throat, even as the void closed and realization returned to his counterpart's eyes. Even as his past self dove toward the ground, screaming and digging frantically in the dirt. They were both howling in the agony of losing his son.

“I didn't mean to. I was just terrified. I didn't mean to. I was a fool and I know it...Bae, please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wanted to come with you, please, forgive me, let me come with you, I'm sorry, so sorry....” The words echoed, spoken by both his past and himself, torn from his throat with no thought behind them. "I was just afraid..."

“But you weren't completely, were you?” The cold, manic voice pierced him. "Not completely sorry."

“I have never regretted anything more.”

“Oh I know, dearie. But this is all about honesty. And let's be honest, even if you couldn't follow your son into the portal, there were other things you might have done. You didn't have to let him go.”

“I lost my grip...” He couldn't face this. He couldn't...

“So you did. But that's not really believable when you look at it, is it now?” The Dark One sneered at him, at his memory counterpart collapsed and weeping in the dirt between them. “You're the Dark One, dearie. You have greater strength than most, when you want it. You have a whole arsenal of spells, including spells that can transport people across the realms. And you couldn't stop the boy from falling in. And why is that, dearie?”

“I...”

“I know why.” The Dark One snickered. “He called you **that** word. Called you a coward. Besides, rather a millstone around your neck, wasn't he? Always complaining about your job. Always whining about the deals you made. Never could appreciate what you were doing for him. Protecting him, giving him things, making sure he was cared for. And it was always 'don't don't don't' and fuss, fuss, fuss wasn't it? Bet you wanted to be free of all that nagging, didn't you?”

“I loved my son.”

“Oh I know it dearie. None better. But the truth's the truth, and truth's what you need here. You know what they say, the truth shall set you free!” The Dark One laughed again. “So...if it's freedom you want to see your boy again, it's the truth you'll have to tell. So tell.”

Truth. Rumplestiltskin swallowed hard.

When Bae had called him a coward, it had hurt. They'd had their arguments in increasing numbers over the years after his transformation, but never had Bae called him coward. With all the things his son had gotten angry at him for, he had never stooped to the insults the villagers had once taunted him with, never used the words that had once been flung at him in derision.

He had known that Bae was trying to goad him, but the truth was that the words had stung, all the more for the ring of honesty in them. And just for that moment, he had been angry and hurt. And all the frustration he tried not to feel when Bae snarled at him about his deals, or turned him away for one reason or the other, or harped on him about his curse, had risen to the surface, stung to waking by that one word. Coward.

Only a moment of hurt. A flash-fire instant. But then, that was all that was needed to say words one couldn't take back. All that was needed to become a Dark One.

All that was needed for his hand to open, just a little, and let his boy fall.

“I let him go. I was angry, hurt, and I let him fall.” He doubled over, face pressing into the dirt, anguish knifing through him like a blade. “I didn't mean to, but I was so angry, so hurt when he called me that...but it was true, he was only telling me the truth as he saw it, he was only trying to get me to let go, and I did...but of the wrong thing. Oh gods, Bae, Bae, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it, I was only angry...it was just that....oh, Bae, I'm so sorry....”

The words choked him, sobs tearing through him, the force of his regret so deep it felt it would literally tear him in two.

_ Oh Bae, my sweet boy, I am so sorry... _

*****SM*****

One moment Gold was quiet. The next everything went to hell.

Emma had been paging through her emails and considering a cup of coffee when Gold moaned “Oh Gods....”

His tone made hair stand up on the back of Emma's neck. She put her phone down and hollered for Neal, who'd gone to the restroom. “Neal!”

Neal popped back through the door just as Gold exploded into motion, howling like a man gone mad. He jolted up on the bed, wrenching at the chains. “No! Bae! Bae!”

Emma barely managed to duck in time to avoid a broken nose. “What the hell?”

Gold wrenched at the chains again, hands clawing the air in front of him. “Bae, please! Please! I didn't....I didn't mean it...please son, I want to come with you! Please...Bae! Bae!” His expression was twisted in agony.

He fought the chains for several more minutes, guttural moans and desperate apologies wrenching from his throat until he was hoarse. Then he went limp, curled on his side and hands flung over his face as tears poured down his cheeks. “Bae, Bae, I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. God's Bae...I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry.” He shuddered and fell silent then, tears streaking his face. Emma was about to reach across him for the washcloth when a broken whisper emerged from his throat. “I'm so sorry...I was just angry...just hurt...it was just for a moment...I'm so sorry Bae. I never meant to...I'm so sorry...Bae, my sweet boy...”

The words died away. Emma looked across the room at Neal.

Neal was standing where he'd stopped, halfway to his father's side. His face was pale. “Papa...”

She swallowed hard. “Guess we know what happened there.”

“When I went through the portal.” Neal's jaw worked. His eyes were shining, as if he was fighting back tears. “He said he regretted it, that he spent a lifetime trying to find me...I wasn't sure...” He stopped and swallowed again. “I used to wonder if he really loved me, or if he was just saying that.”

“I don't think there's a question anymore.” Emma felt a lump in her own throat. The anguish in Gold's voice...it was too much like her feelings when Henry had eaten that poisoned turnover and collapsed in front of her.

“No.” Neal took the last few steps to the bed, wavering, then fell to his knees beside his father's contorted body. “And I did hurt him. For so long, I wanted to believe it was all his fault, but I did hurt him.” A single tear broke free to slide down his face. “I'm sorry too, Papa.” He reached out and gently took one of Gold's hands, cradling it in his own.

Emma saw a dark stain on Gold's sleeve. A quick check revealed a similar stain on the arm closer to her. She gently ran a finger across it. Her finger came up red. “Neal. He's bleeding.” She unbuttoned the cuff of Gold's sleeve and slid it gently from underneath the cuff to reveal an ugly raw abrasion. It looked like someone had stripped the skin from his arm in a horizontal slice. “Looks like he hurt himself fighting the restraints.” She found more than one wound, testament to the violence of Gold's struggles.

Neal copied her motions and revealed similar wounds on his side. “Guess we should see if Papa left a medicine kit here.”

“Yeah. I'll go look.” Emma set Gold's arm down and stood up. She could feel her eyes stinging and a lump in her throat.

It took her a few minutes to find the kit, stashed under a bathroom sink. She brought it back, along with some fresh water. She and Neal tended to Gold's arms, trading peroxide and ointment and bandages back and forth across the unconscious man, until all the raw cuts had been cleaned and bandaged. Afterward, Neal used some spare lengths of gauze to muffle both cuffs. Then he rearranged his father to lie more comfortably. Emma helped, rearranging pillows and straightening blankets while Neal supported his father and wiped the sweat and tears from his face. They finally got him settled, wrapped in a blanket and propped on the pillows. By the time they were done, Gold's breathing had settled back into the slow rhythms of before.

But he hadn't stopped crying. Slow tears continued to leak from his eyes, down his face. His mouth was drawn tight in pain as he wept silently.

Neal watched his father, then reached out and brushed a wayward lock of hair away from his face. Then he took up the washcloth and began to wipe away his father's tears, his hands tender and gentle. “It's okay Papa. It's okay. I'll be waiting right here for you, when you come out of this. And you're never gonna lose me again.”

Emma felt like a rock the size of Everest had lodged itself in her throat. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. Watching Neal, thinking of Henry....

She stood, unable to sit and watch any longer. “Hey...I'm gonna go get some air. Maybe some food or something....”

Neal didn't even look up. Emma stood a moment, then turned and almost bolted through the door, reaching for her cell phone as she went.

She needed to see Henry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...a little emotional overload here. But you can't really say it's unexpected.


	6. Sifting Through Shards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spell continues, but a new individual enters the field.

Emma sat beside Henry's bed. She'd convinced Whale to let them in on grounds of family and the fact that it was a magical malady, which meant his medical knowledge was of limited use.

She'd been there almost every waking moment since leaving Gold's house two days before. Henry had continued to make slow but steady improvements. Whale had taken him off the respirator the day before, once he'd confirmed that Henry was breathing on his own, though he hadn't regained consciousness yet.

Emma glanced at her phone, wondering if she should call Neal.

She hadn't returned to Gold's house, not since she'd left after his outburst concerning his son. She couldn't shake the feeling of having seen something that wasn't hers to see. It was the same feeling she'd gotten when she'd watched Neal and his father interact, that day when Gold had been dying. The feeling of being a witness to something that was too personal, too painful for outsiders to view. As if she'd intruded on something, violated some trust she didn't fully understand.

Besides, it hurt too much, to witness the intensity of emotion between father and son. She'd never gotten a chance to develop such a relationship with her own parents, and it made her heart ache, not only for Neal and Gold and what they'd lost, but for what she'd never had.

So she'd volunteered to watch Henry more often, asked the others to sit with Neal and his father. At least David and Mary Margaret could sympathize with Neal and Gold, offer the soothing words that she'd never been good at.

Regina hadn't said anything when she'd stammered out her excuses for wanting to avoid Gold and Neal, but she had a feeling the former Evil Queen knew exactly what was going on in her head. Knew and sympathized.

“Excuse me...Sheriff Swann?” A quiet, lightly accented voice startled her out of her thoughts. She blinked at the person who'd addressed her.

“Belle.” The young woman was attired in hospital scrubs, rather than a patient gown. She still looked a little lost, but given that she had no memories from any point prior to two months ago, that was no surprise. She looked a little hesitant. “You need something?”

“Well, I don't want to disturb you...” Belle's gaze moved to Henry.

“No, no, it's fine.” Emma gestured to a seat. “Trust me, a little distraction is welcome.”

Belle nodded and settled gingerly into the seat, as if she didn't quite expect it to be real between one movement and the next. “Thank you. I...I was wondering...if you could help me with something...” Her fingers twined together in her lap. “It's kind of ridiculous, really....”

“Well, why don't you tell me what's on your mind, and I'll see what I can do.” Emma sat forward. “Trust me, I know you're stressed, so if I can do anything to help, just tell me.”

Belle nodded. “I...well, it's just...” She sighed. “Since I was placed here, after I woke up on the town line...that gentleman, Mr. Gold...he used to come and see me every day. And at first I was really bothered by it. He was just so...intense. So focused. And I could tell he was worried about me, and really upset, I suppose because he knew me as his girlfriend or something...”

“Yeah.” Or something. She'd thought Gold incapable of feeling anything but self-interest until she'd seen him with Belle. Awkward and shy and almost sweet. “And?”

“Well, one day, he came and told me he was leaving on a trip. And then a few days later, he called and told me he was dying. And then two days after that, he came back here and told me they'd managed to save him. He didn't tell me how, of course.” Belle huffed in exasperation. Then she sighed. “Having him gone, getting that phone call and thinking I'd never see him again...I realized...I don't know much about who I am, where I've come from, but I do know...I'd miss him. I...care for him. I don't know why and I don't know how, just...I do. And that's why...”

Belle took a deep breath. “He hasn't come to see me in three days. And I was hoping you could tell me if he's all right. I mean, is he avoiding me, or is he just extremely busy, or is he sick...I was just hoping you could tell me.”

_ 'You will tell her, if and only if she asks for me. Then tell her the truth about what I am doing. She deserves that much of me.' _

Gold's terms for saving Henry. 

Emma swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in her mouth. “About that...” She glanced at the hospital ward outside. She hadn't seen much of their out of town visitor, but that just made her more wary than ever.

She made a quick decision. “You know what? Why don't you let me call someone to take over here, and then I'll check you out of here, and we can go get some real food and talk for a little bit. And I can answer some questions for you.”

Belle's brow furrowed. “About Mr. Gold? Can't you just tell me if he's all right?”

“Actually...that's kind of complicated. And it's not really a hospital ICU room kind of discussion.” Belle frowned. “Look. Come eat with me, and we'll talk, and then if you want, I'll take you to see him, okay?”

Belle considered, then nodded. “Okay.”

Twenty minutes and a quick explanation later, Regina had arrived to take over watching Henry. She even brought over some spare clothes for Belle.

Ten minutes after that, Belle was dressed, and Emma had managed to convince Whale to let his amnesiac patient out of the hospital, on grounds of necessity and the slim hope that being out and about might jog Belle's memory. At least it would give her more reference points than the hospital to work from.

She considered taking Belle to Granny's, then discarded the notion. It would attract too much attention, for one thing. And there were too many ways that someone could overhear their conversation. The last thing any of them needed was for some well-meaning busybody to listen in and start spreading stories about Gold's condition.

Besides, she wasn't in the mood for the food Granny's usually served. Mary Margaret wasn't home, and a cup of tea and some food out of the fridge sounded extremely appealing.

She drove them to her family's apartment, and led Belle up the stairs, gesturing for the other woman to proceed her. “Here we are.”

Belle nodded. “It looks...nice. But...where are we?”

“My apartment. Or, more accurately, my mother's apartment. I'm sort of sharing it with her for the moment. Been too busy to find my own place.” Emma shed her coat and hung it up, then dove into the fridge. “So, I've got tea, coffee, milk, water to drink, and I can make you a sandwich, or soup, or a salad...”

“Tea would be nice, but anything's fine.” Belle perched carefully on a stool by the kitchen counter. “It's just nice getting out of the hospital.”

“Yeah. I can see that. Tea and sandwiches it is.” Emma pulled out the appropriate containers and began making the tea. Mary Margaret had taught her how when she'd first moved in, and she was glad the lesson had stuck. She set the tea to steep, then made two sandwiches, roast beef and cheddar for her, ham and swiss for Belle. She toasted them lightly, added lettuce and tomatoes, then served up the tea and food to her guest. “Here you go. It's not great cooking, but hopefully it's not too terrible.”

One corner of Belle's mouth quirked up in a shy grin. “Trust me...it has to be better than hospital food.” She bit into the sandwich with enthusiasm. Emma followed suit.

The sandwiches disappeared fast. So did Belle's tea. Emma got her a refill. Belle sipped it, then set it aside. “Sheriff, I appreciate the lunch and everything but...why did you bring me here?”

Emma sighed. “Honestly? Because it's just about the best place I know of to have a conversation you don't want overheard.”

“And telling me if Mr. Gold is all right is that kind of conversation?” Belle's brow furrowed in a frown. “I don't understand.”

“I know.” Emma sighed again, trying to sort out the best way to explain things. Finally, she decided to start with the basics. “Look, before we begin, I need you to promise me something. Promise you'll keep an open mind, okay?”

Belle nodded. Emma took a swallow of tea to moisten her throat. “The day I came to the hospital, before I left with Gold, you tried to tell me something. Do you remember what it was?”

Belle stiffened, hands clenching around the cup. “I tried to tell you what happened when I woke up on the town line. That I was there, and I couldn't remember how. I was...injured. You told me I had been shot, then almost hit by a car. I tried to tell you that Mr. Gold healed me, and that I saw him holding something....like a ball of fire...and throwing it at someone. And you said I was....delusional. Like I'd just...imagined it or something. But I  _ know _ I didn't, and...”

“I know.” Emma cut her off. “I know. You didn't imagine it. Everything you saw was real. But we had to tell you it wasn't.”

Belle's jaw clenched. “Why?”

“Because...what you saw, the healing, the fire...that's magic. Magic is real. But it's only really real here, in Storybrooke. Why is kind of complicated, so you're just gonna have to trust me on that.” She waited for Belle's nod, then continued. “The guy whose car almost hit you...he isn't from around here. We couldn't risk him finding out about magic. So, to protect the truth, we told you that you'd imagined it.” She saw the hurt in the other woman's eyes. “Hey, I know. It's not fair to you, and it was probably wrong of us to keep sedating you and lying to you. We just...we weren't sure how to tell you the truth without possibly telling him too. I'm sorry.”

Belle seemed to consider that for several moments. Finally, she relaxed a little. “I...suppose it's understandable. But what does that have to do with Mr. Gold? Besides the fact that he has magic?”

“A lot.” Emma took a deep breath. She didn't want to talk about the next part, but she had to. “You saw the boy I was with?”

“Yes. I've seen you and several others visiting him.”

Emma wrapped her hands around the tea mug, trying to pull the warmth into herself. “That little boy...his name is Henry. He's my son. Four days ago, he came across a cursed object, and he accidentally touched it. It cursed him, and the curse is fatal.”

Belle's expression winced into one of apology. “I'm so sorry...”

“Yeah. So am I. So are all of us. The thing is...Henry is also Gold's grandson. His son is Henry's dad. So when Gold heard about Henry, he came to see him. He knew what the curse was, and how to break it.”

Belle frowned again, though it looked more thoughtful than angry the second time. Her lips pursed and her eyebrows drew down, eyes staring into the distance. Then she took a drink of tea. “You're saying that he hasn't come to see me...because he's trying to save your son. His grandson.”

“Yeah. That's pretty much it.” Emma took a sip of her own tea. It was down to the dregs, with an odd aftertaste, but she couldn't care less.

“What he's doing...is it dangerous?” Belle's words were hesitant.

Emma felt herself stiffen before she could stop the reaction. “It's...he said it wasn't life threatening, but...” The memory of Gold as she'd last seen him, sweat-soaked and tortured, weeping silently while Neal held his hand, flashed through her head. She winced. “It's not life threatening. But it...it's not good either.”

Something shadowed darkened Belle's gaze. She was silent for several moments, drinking her tea and staring into the distance over Emma's left shoulder. Finally, when the last of her tea was gone, she met Emma's gaze again. “Can I see him?”

Emma considered. On one hand, Gold had insisted that Belle be told the truth. On the other hand, she doubted Gold would want to be seen by anyone he didn't have to be in his current state. He'd made it clear before they'd started all this that he would endure having watchers only because of the possible danger to himself and to others if his magic raged out of control.

On the other hand, if there was anyone in the world Gold would trust to see him besides Neal, it was likely to be Belle. Her injury and subsequent loss of memory had torn him up badly. And having her there, even if it was as a slightly concerned and sympathetic friend, might help.

It might be enough to save him, if the spell ended as badly as Regina had suggested it might.

That thought decided her. “Let me make a call.” She retrieved her phone from her jacket and dialed Neal's number.

It rang twice, then clicked, and Neal's hoarse voice cracked over the line. “Emma.”

“Hey. Neal.” She moistened her lip with the tip of her tongue. “Hey, I was at the hospital watching Henry and...Belle came to talk to me. She asked about your dad.” She paused, then finished. “She wants to see him.”

Neal made a frustrated sound. “Emma, he's....”

“I know he's not good. I told her. But we promised your dad. Besides...I think it might help. Him, and maybe her too.” She couldn't explain why she felt that way. But she'd read Henry's book, and she'd read of Rumplestiltskin and Belle. More to the point, she'd seen the way Gold had reacted to Belle's injury, and she'd heard the call he'd made when he lay dying in his shop. All of it seemed to add up to one gently whispered instinct, nudging her mind and telling her that she needed to bring Belle to Gold.

“Fine. You can bring her.” Neal heaved a sigh that sounded more exhausted than angry, or irritated. “God knows it can't hurt.”

“Yeah. That was my thought.” She looked at the slender woman sitting curled up on Mary Margaret's stool. “Be over in a little while.” Then she hung up.

Belle was staring at her empty tea cup when Emma sat back down. “Neal said we could come over.”

Belle nodded, then focused on her. “You said you thought it could help. Him and me. I don't understand. I don't even know who I am, aside from what people have told me. How could I help him?”

“For the same reason he can help you. Look, I know what he said to you on the phone, when he was dying. I was there, helping take care of him.” Emma reached out, careful and cautious, and laid one hand across Belle's. “I know you don't remember anything before that night at the town line. And I can only imagine how confusing that has to be for you. But here's what I do know. Gold cares for you. More than I actually thought it was possible for him to care for anyone.” Emma smiled. “He'd go through fire for you. You're one of only three people in the world I think he truly cares about. The other two are his son and Henry.”

She folded her hand gently around Belle's. “This spell, this thing he's doing to save Henry...it's painful for him. When it ends, there's a serious possibility that he's going to need help. And I think having you there, even if you don't remember, even if you're just doing it to repay him for visiting you in the hospital and calling to encourage you, will help a lot.”

Belle nodded. “But, you said it'll help me?”

“I think you need something to focus on besides everything you don't remember.” Emma shoved her hands in her pockets. She couldn't imagine what it was like, to remember nothing of her life. She couldn't imagine not knowing Neal and Henry, not remembering her time in jail or out on the streets.

Belle considered a moment, then nodded. “I think I'd like that.”

“Then let's go see Gold.” Emma snatched her jacket and headed back out the door, Belle right behind her.

David was there to greet her when she and Belle pulled up to the house. He looked exhausted, a days worth of stubble on his jaw and shadows under his eyes. Emma could sympathize. He'd been helping her out at the sheriff's station when he wasn't watching Gold or Henry, and the routine had been taxing on all of them.

Emma waited until David shut the door behind them. “How is he?”

David grimaced. “Hard to say. His voice is gone, which is actually kind of a relief, but...” He ran a hand through his short hair. “It's not pretty. He's in bad shape.” He met Belle's eyes. “Honestly, it's no place for a lady.”

Belle met his gaze. “When I was in the hospital, he cared for me. It's only right that I return the favor.”

“Yeah...sure. Right this way.” David gestured.

Emma caught his arm. “Hey. You look worn out. Go home and get some rest, stay with Mary Margaret a while, okay? Regina's watching Henry. We can handle it for a few hours.”

David hesitated, then slumped. “That sounds...really great, actually. I am dying for a shower. If you're sure...”

“I'm sure. I had a solid eight hours before I went to see Henry this morning.” It had actually been more like five, but she didn't think it mattered.

“Great. I'll leave you to it then.” David flashed one last look at Belle, then left the house.

Emma led Belle down the hall and knocked gently on the door to warn Neal that they were there, then let herself in. She couldn't help but wince at the sight that met her eyes.

Neal looked exhausted, dark rings under his eyes. But at least he also looked like he'd gotten a hot meal, a shower and a few hours rest somewhere in there. Gold, on the other hand...

Gold looked horrible. His face was gaunt and pale, lips cracked and the skin visibly irritated around his eyes. His hair was disordered, greasy and matted, his jaw dark with stubble. His clothing was wrinkled and stained with sweat. The bandages at his wrists were spotted with blood and grungy. His expression was tense with pain and grief, lips moving soundlessly as the odd shudder rocked his frame. There was a faint outline of a bruise across his cheekbone. She wondered if it had happened during the outburst over his son, or after.

Belle gasped. “What...why is he chained?” She darted to the stricken man's bedside, looking with horror at the manacles on his wrists and ankles.

“So he doesn't hurt anyone.” Neal moved back a little.

Emma stepped up and laid a hand on Belle's arm. “Look, I know it seems cruel. But you have to understand, he insisted on this.”

“But why?” Belle looked close to tears.

“Because his magic is unpredictable, and sometimes he reacts badly to what's happening inside his head. Whatever the spell is doing to him, it's really hard on him.”

Belle bit her lip, watching as Gold jerked, lips moving in a soundless plea. “He was always so kind to me, in the hospital. Always so gentle. I can't remember him, but he never got angry with me.” She reached out to touch his brow, smoothing back the damp hair. “I know it hurt him, but he was never angry with me. Not even when I broke his cup.”

“His cup?” Emma frowned.

“He brought in this chipped tea cup, the night before he came to say he was leaving. He asked me to look at it, because he thought it might help, but I was so frustrated...I threw it across the room and broke it. The look in his eyes....” Belle's breath hitched. “He never said anything, just gathered up the pieces and left, but...”

“Yeah. That chipped cup was important to him.” Emma still remembered how he'd nearly beaten Moe French, the flower seller, to death for stealing it.

It certainly explained the cold fury that had possessed him when he'd come to demand that she come with him to New York, and quite possibly the bloody knuckles he'd given himself before they boarded the plane. She'd had no idea how much stress he'd been under at the time.

Belle watched Gold shiver again. He looked so...small. So broken. Then she looked at Neal, standing on the far side of the bed, his hands shoved in his pockets, and Emma. “I...could I stay? Help you with him?”

Emma glanced at Neal. “I don't have a problem with it.”

Neal nodded. “Stay. He'd like to have you here.”

“All right. I'll stay then.” Belle moved toward the chair and settled down. Neal mirrored her.

Emma watched them both, and the man in between, then shifted her weight awkwardly. “So...I guess I'll go get you some changes of clothes. Anything else I can get you? Coffee? Food? Tea?”

Neal looked up. “Coffee would be great.”

“Right. Coffee and clothes. I'll be back in a while.” She took one last glance at the broken figure on the bed, then turned and headed for the door.

She just hoped she was doing the right thing, and that it would be enough.

*****SM*****

So many deals. So many things he'd done....

He'd forgotten a lot. After taking the seer's gift, he'd spent much of his time waiting, preparing. Waiting for all the pieces to fall into place as he trained himself in magic, built the curse line by line and spell by spell.

He'd had no attention to spare for anything else, for caring about anything else. Though he had given some thought on how to break his own curse, looking for a way to do it without losing his power.

He had made deals a-plenty over those long centuries. Dark deals. Cruel deals. Evil deals. And he'd done many things simply because he could do them. Over time, the unleashing of his anger had become a sort of tonic for him. So easy, to let the rage consume him, to lash out at whoever might have offended or angered him. So easy, and so much simpler and less painful than dealing with the grief and guilt that tortured him.

He lit a candle every year on his son's birthday, and he didn't take his anger out on children. But that was the extent to which he controlled the darkness inside of him.

The things he'd done...

Ripping out Milah's heart and cutting off Hook's hand were really just the tip of a very large iceberg. Crushing people after turning them into snails, turning them into livestock, torturing people who dared offend him...he'd done it all. Writing out deals that he knew were cruel, perhaps even unjust, and watching people writhe in indecision and desperation.

He'd let the darkness consume him, and now he was forced to watch all that he had done, all the misery he had inflicted on others in the name of forgetting his own.

If Baelfire had thought he was a monster before, his son would have been truly horrified if he'd seen what he'd become after he'd fallen through the portal.

He couldn't blame it on the Dark One's curse, either. That had only given him the power to indulge his darkest moods and urges. The rage, the darkness, they'd always been there. Buried under his cowardice, his knowledge that he was too slightly built and lean to fight the way he wished. The rage after his father had abandoned him, his anger at being taunted as the son of a coward and a cheat, his helpless fury at being scorned simply for wanting a life with his son...all there all buried under the surface. Until the curse gave him free reign.

Without anything to fear, he'd discovered that he'd been a monster all along.

With nothing left to lose, he'd discovered just how evil he could be.

Small wonder Baelfire had wanted to escape him. Small wonder that people despised him, feared him, spoke his name in disgust and anger and horror.

He'd long since lost his voice to apologize, or tears to shed for what he'd done. Instead he watched, silent and aching, hands clenched until his nails gouged bloody crescents on his palms. Watched every single thing he had done. Twisting innocents. Hurting people. Preying on the desperate.

He was a monster. And nothing he could do, nothing he could say, would ever make up for this. He understood, now, why Zoso had chosen him for the curse. Not because of his desperation or his ignorance, but because the previous Dark One had known what lurked in his heart, the malice waiting to break free. The horror he was capable of.

He wanted to die, but he couldn't. Because nothing, not even his death, could possibly be an atonement for what he had done.

Another shift, another memory. Another atrocity.

Rumplestiltskin watched, eyes wide and anguished, as one phrase spilled soundlessly over his lips like a dirge.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much angst...Poor Neal. Poor Belle. Poor Rumplestiltskin!


	7. Darkness All Consuming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curse continues, and a familiar name crops up

Four more days passed.

Henry's condition continued to improve. He hadn't regained consciousness, but his vitals were stable and his color was good. According to Whale, his condition was no worse than might be expected of a person recovering from serious trauma. His state appeared to be that of a deep, natural sleep, such as was common for healing patients. That he hadn't woken up was slightly worrisome, but considering that his state was caused by a curse, not too surprising. Still, he was no longer in any obvious danger.

Gold, on the other hand, was deteriorating. At Neal's request, Emma and Belle had gone back to the hospital. Belle had gone to the doctor's for a check-in, armed with a lot of questions. Emma had used the distraction to steal an IV and as many saline and nutrient bags as she could carry without looking suspicious. Hardly proper behavior for a sheriff, but she figured she or Regina could reimburse the hospital later.

They'd taken the equipment back to Gold's and used a coat rack from the entryway to create a makeshift IV pole, then duck-taped the line to Gold's elbow. Fortunately, Mary Margaret had been a hospital volunteer long enough to pick up the basics of setting an IV line. She'd bruised Gold a bit, but Emma was simply thankful they'd managed it at all.

She was also grateful it hadn't broken Gold out of the spell, though she couldn't help the lingering fear that nothing could break Gold out now. He seemed lost in his own memories, his expression locked into a permanent, pained grimace.

Belle had allowed both Emma and Mary Margaret to help her with getting food and a few changes of clothes, but had otherwise remained at Rumplestiltskin's side. She and Neal traded sessions sleeping and watching over the tormented man, bathing his brow with damp cloths and attempting to get water down his throat every now and then. They also changed his bandages. There was nothing they could do for his clothes, though. Emma had been worried about the smell until Regina brought in a set of scented candles, and did something with a light touch of magic that cleared the air.

Emma watched from the doorway as Neal gently wiped a damp cloth over his father's brow, then checked the IV. It was Belle's turn to rest. She'd opted for the same choice Neal had, a heap of pillows and blankets and cushions from other parts of the house on the floor.

Emma moved closer, watching as Neal settled his father in a more comfortable position. She noticed that he or Belle had applied chapstick to Gold's lips, which were cracked and split and looked like they'd bled in a couple places.

Normally, she might have thought it was amusing, to see someone as composed and neat as the pawnbroker with chapped lips and rumpled hair.

It wasn't amusing now.

Neal looked up as she shifted closer. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She swallowed hard. “Any changes?”

“Not really. Hasn't got his voice back yet, or he just isn't talking. There's no way of telling how far he's gone, or how far he has left.” Neal sighed. “Three hundred years is a long time.”

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

Neal sighed again, then bent forward to lean his head on the bed. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice muffled by his arms. “I wish I could stop it.”

Emma tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “Yeah. Me too.”

Gold had said they might all wish the price was a life, and she was beginning to see why. Bearing witness to his constant, endless torment weighed on all of them. Even Regina's acid dislike of the man had been worn down by watching him suffer through the Shattered Masks spell to save her son.

She reached out and put a hand on Neal's shoulder, offering the little comfort she could. “I'm sorry. If I'd known....”

Neal jerked upright, a restless, almost angry movement. “Wouldn't have mattered. He'd have done it anyway. He's such a stubborn...” He shook his head again. “And we would have let him. Even me. I would have said he deserved to know how screwed up he was. I didn't know...” Neal's words broke in a rough rasp. “I spent so long wanting to shove it in his face, how twisted being the Dark One was. Being angry at him. If I'd known it was like this...” He swiped an arm across his face, then looked up at Emma. “I don't know what to do.”

“Yeah. Me neither.” Emma watched as Gold flinched again. “I guess...all we can do is be here for him. Let him know we appreciate what he's done.”

“He's my father. And I love him. I haven't told him that since I saw him again. He told me he loved me, but all I did was tell him I was still angry at him.” Neal blinked and looked away, but Emma saw the sparkle of new tears in his eyes. “I gotta tell him I love him, Emma.”

“Yeah.” Emma let go and shoved her hand in her pocket, feeling awkward. She didn't know if she loved Gold, didn't know if she could. But he was family, and he was suffering to save her son. That meant something to her.

She only hoped that, in the end, it would mean something to him too.

*****SM*****

Deal upon deal upon deal. He had lost track, in three hundred years of making deals. All that time, watching and waiting, accumulating favors and artifacts that he thought he might need. 

He'd learned so many things during those years. The darkest of magics.

How to kill, in so many ways. How to punish. How to torture, a thing that once would have made him sick to the point of fainting. By the end of his second century, he'd become a master at it, and able to laugh as he worked.

Memory after memory replayed in his mind, people he had used, people he had punished. People he had manipulated. He'd sworn as a child never to be that kind of man. A man like his father, or like the cruel men who often traded with his father, or like the Duke who sent children to war.

In the end, he'd become worse. He'd rationalized it all in the search for his son, for power to do what he needed to do, but in the end no reason could erase what he'd done. What he'd become. A monster.

The memory scene shifted again, leaving him kneeling on the cold marble floor of a palace. A palace he knew well. His heart sank, then turned to ice as he realized what he was about to witness.

A young woman, long black hair framing a face just maturing from childhood to adulthood. A girl with wounded but still innocent eyes.

The Dark One giggled with delight. “Now this is a pretty familiar scene, isn't it? Quite a fond memory, no? The day you found the last players in your game? The last piece of the puzzle.”

Regina.

He watched himself appear to the young princess, about to be Queen and still reeling from the death of her love. Watched himself smile.

_ 'You don't know me, but I know you dearie. Held you in my arms. You were once promised to me, in a sense...I can help you with your problems.' _

“No...”

He watched himself prey on a young woman's tears, her grief and her anger. Twist it all into a desperate, twisted hope, and something darker. A need for vengeance and a chance to claim it.

He watched himself coax Regina down the first step of the path to darkness, when she shoved her mother through the looking glass and into Wonderland.

“Of course, it wasn't just about taking advantage of her grief, now was it? Not at all. There's so much more to the story.” The Dark One snickered.

“Yes.” His voice cracked painfully. “I...”

He'd known what Cora was, and how she'd raised her daughter. He'd known what would happen when she succeeded in ridding herself of her mother.

Vengeance would be sweet. But then the girl who'd spent her entire life being controlled and manipulated would be cut adrift. No one to guide her. No one she could trust to advise her. Too young and unpracticed yet to trust her own judgment. And then…

“Well, come on now. Spit it out, dearie. You know the drill by now I'm sure.”

“I took advantage of her. Of her anger. Of her grief. She lost...her love...and I used it. I used her for the Curse. But here...I used her vulnerability.”

“To further your own ends. You took a young innocent and turned her into the Evil Queen. All for a spell. And you didn't even tell her that she wouldn't even get what she wanted from it. Twisted her with an all-consuming need for vengeance, and didn't even tell her she wouldn't achieve it.” The Dark One sneered.

“I know. I know...” He watched Regina take the first step, shoving her mother through the mirror while he smiled in the background. “I...”

The scene shifted, to the day they'd begun their lessons. Lessons in magic, lessons in darkness.

He watched himself manipulate Regina's heart, feeding her need for vengeance. Her anger. Her hatred. Her envy and frustration.

One spell at a time, he led his student down the darkest of paths.

He'd thought himself beyond tears. He'd thought there was nothing he'd done that could exceed the horrors he had committed over three hundred years.

He watched himself deliberately, knowingly, corrupt an innocent with empty promises. Twist her and turn her, as his life had twisted him, until she was as dark as he, as broken and filled with pain and empty ambitions.

He watched, and he wept for the evil he had done. The innocent he had broken into the mold of the Evil Queen.

“Regina...I'm sorry. I'm sorry...”

It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

*****SM*****

Emma was contemplating going for coffee when Gold suddenly stirred, a soft broken cry coming from his mouth. “No...”

Neal shot out of his chair, and Belle pushed her way upright, blinking sleep from her eyes.

Gold shuddered, and a tear slid down his face. “I...” His voice cracked on the word, breathless and painful. “I used…took advantage...she lost...” The words were disjointed, broken, rasping against his throat. Another tear joined the first.

Then a name, seemingly wrenched from the depths of his being. “Regina...I'm sorry.”

Neal blinked. “The Queen? Why's he apologizing to her?”

Emma shook her head. “Why don't we ask her?” She pulled out her phone and dialed the now familiar number.

Two clicks, and Regina answered. “I hope you have a good reason for calling me, Miss Swann.”

“There's been a development. Can you come to Gold's?”

“Give me ten minutes.” The line went dead.

Fifteen minutes later, Regina entered the room. “What's happened?”

“He was calling for you.” Emma gestured to the bed.

Gold was trembling. His voice had long since faded again, but his lips continued to move, shaping an apology he lacked the ability to voice.

Belle had taken the time to dress in fresh clothes and return to the bedside. “He was apologizing.”

Neal nodded. “Was wondering if you knew why.”

Regina's mouth thinned. Then she shook herself slightly. “How much do you know about my relationship with Rumplestiltskin?”

Emma frowned. “It's always seemed a little antagonistic. I honestly thought you guys hated each other for some reason.”

“Not exactly.” Regina's mouth twisted in what might have been a grimace. “He was my teacher. Everything I learned about magic, I learned from him. I followed him, listened to him, because he promised me I could have vengeance for the death of the man I loved. I wanted to punish my mother and Snow White, and he told me he'd show me how. And he did, for my mother at least.”

“The Curse...it was supposed to be your vengeance. Henry told me.”

“That's what he told me. But, as I clearly discovered, that wasn't the case.” Her dark eyes fixed on Neal. “Your father promised me vengeance, taught me dark magic, trained me to be the Evil Queen, even had me sacrifice the last person I loved...and as it turned out, it was all so he could come and find you, Mr. Cassidy. All so I would cast this curse, to bring us...” Her hand swiped at the town. “Here to this world. He never intended the curse to last. Nor even for me to find happiness.”

Neal's jaw tightened. “Bet that pissed you off.”

“You have no idea.” Regina turned her gaze to Gold. “I realized barely a few years in that the vengeance I'd gained was a hollow thing. Not worth the price. And then, of course, the savior came. And everything I thought I'd gained fell to pieces.”

“So you do hate him.” Emma winced.

“I thought I did.” Regina frowned. "Life would be much simpler if I could hate him.”

“But...” Belle frowned. “He was using you...”

“And I used him. I wanted vengeance, and I took his teachings to help me achieve it. He taught me about the darkness, but I chose to follow his teachings, even when I had misgivings. Besides, he may have cheated me of my revenge but...he also brought me Henry. He gave me my son.” Regina's eyes were fierce. “That means something to me.”

“Do you think you'll ever forgive him?” Belle spoke up again.

Regina's lips pursed. “I don't know. But there are a few things I do know that make it...complicated.”

She leveled a hard look at Neal. “I have a son. I would do anything for him. Even if he hates me for it. Knowing that, and knowing that he has you, that he was searching for you...I may hate what he did to me, what he turned me into, but I also...admit to a certain understanding of his motives. If our positions had been reversed, I would have done the same thing. A hundred times over.”

Neal looked away. “Yeah. I just wish he hadn't had to. If he'd just...not broken our deal.”

“Dark magic, Mr. Cassidy, is more dangerous than most people understand.” Regina formed a ball of fire in her hand. “It's addicting. And it's powerful. Even if you study it with the best of intentions, it twists you. Blinds you and everyone else around you. The only reason I even have a hope of being a better person is because of Henry. Most people who dabble in dark magic don't get second chances, or recognize them. Snow White taught me that. So did your father.” She snuffed the fire. “I'd suggest you think carefully about whether or not you're mistaking an inability to do something for an unwillingness to.”

Neal nodded. “You're saying...his curse...”

“The Curse of the Dark One is one of the most powerful in existence, Mr. Cassidy.” Her glance went to Belle, then back to Neal. “I researched him, looking for his weaknesses. I encountered something interesting in my research. There's never been a Dark One who loved. There has never been a Dark One, prior to Rumplestiltskin, capable of healing magic. Or any form of light magic at all. You might consider what that means, while you wait for him to wake up.” She cast one last look at the sleeping man, then turned and left. Moments later, they heard the distant click of the front door latch.

Belle frowned. “I don't understand. The Dark One…?”

Neal grimaced. “When I was a kid, some soldiers came to take me away to war. My dad didn't want me to go. He knew I'd get killed. Some beggar told him this story, about how if he could get this artifact, he could become powerful enough to save me from the war. He was desperate, so he did it. Stole the artifact and used it. And he got cursed, turned into the Dark One.” He ducked his head. “My dad got cursed for me.” He looked back at the unconscious man's face, twisted into it's expression of agonized grief. “I never thought about what it meant, that he could heal my wounds and take care of me.”

“Sounds like he really cared for you.” Emma put her hand on Neal's shoulder. He reached back and squeezed her fingers. “So, what's the plan?”

Neal looked back at her. “What?”

“He's talking about Regina, right?” Emma studied Gold's face. “That means we only have a few years left before this is done. Which means we only have...what, half a day at most? We'd better have a plan in place for how to deal with him and Henry waking up, especially if it's as bad as Regina said it would be.”


	8. Love of a Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumplestiltskin and Belle

The next hour was hectic. Regina had gone to see Henry, and a quick discussion resulted in an agreement to call her back on speaker phone, rather than have her return to the house. In the meantime, Neal called Mary Margaret and David over to the house. Both were busy with their own responsibilities, but agreed to come over that evening, as soon as they could get free. Emma took a moment to freshen up in the bathroom, then rejoined the other two.

Gold had gone quiet again, coiled in on himself to the limit his chains would allow. Emma watched him tremble, remorse and shame on his face. She wondered what it was like, to shoulder three hundred years of regrets and pain.

Her own thirty years seemed a lot to deal with as it was. She turned her head to look at Neal. It hadn't occurred to her before, but she and Gold had always had one thing in common. They'd given up on their sons, and fought to get them back. She wondered if that was why she was the savior, or if it was something else. She wondered if that was why she'd always had such a complicated relationship with the pawn shop owner. Shared mistakes, the trappings of destiny...maybe she'd ask him about it someday.

She hoped he'd survive long enough for her to ask.

*****SM*****

The things he'd done with Regina...Rumplestiltskin felt himself quail at the memories.

He'd taught an innocent how to kill, and how to take pleasure in killing. How to take hearts and make slaves of others. Poisons and plotting and violence...Regina, for all that she'd been Cora's daughter, had known nothing of any of that.

Not until he'd taught her, of course. Manipulated her. One step at a time, combining empty promises and pointed reminders and the addiction of dark magic to twist her gentle soul into something far more cruel.

He'd learned from being the Dark One that the kindest souls, once broken, housed the greatest darkness. That was why Zoso had chosen the meek and mild spinner that he'd been. Desperation and fear and so much bottled up rage...and he in turn had sought out the same for his curse caster, and used his knowledge to twist Regina in the same fashion that he'd been twisted.

It was all the worse, that he'd known what that twisting would do to her, what it felt like.

He watched one lesson after another, shaking with grief and remorse, while the Dark One laughed in the background, gleeful and delighting in his agony, whispering in his ears.

'You broke her, you broke her...knew what you were doing and you did it anyway. You think that I'm the monster in your heart...but you knew what you were doing here. All for your purpose. All for your curse. Quite the trick, that. But you convinced yourself you were justified. Because it was for your son. That old, tired excuse. But you enjoyed it, didn't you?'

“I...”

He had. He'd reveled in the twisted satisfaction of no longer being the only one so damaged and the savage glee he'd felt, knowing how close he was to achieving his aims. He'd smiled as he manipulated her, and it hadn't all been his curse or a false front.

His soul felt as if it was crumbling to ash.

The image wrenched again in the familiar transition to a new memory. Rumplestiltskin looked around as the surroundings changed to a new palace, not Regina's castle. A smaller palace, warmer toned.

He knew this place. His heart clenched within his chest. He couldn't breathe.

_ 'That has to be him.' _ A young woman's well-controlled alto. A voice he knew almost better than his own. 

_ 'Well, that was a bit of a letdown.' _ His own high, impish giggle. 

“Ah yes. And then, there's this little scene. Quite a change from manipulating the Queen. Quite a change in another fashion too.” the Dark One crouched beside him, an ugly sneer on the thin lips. “This one...this one's all yours, dearie. All yours.”

He watched himself bargain with Maurice. Bargain for the defeat of the ogres. In truth, he'd probably have destroyed them regardless. It was part of his original terms as the Dark One, after all. He hated ogres with a passion, had ever since his tour as a soldier.

But he had bargained. For Belle. For the girl. Not because he actually needed a maid or a house-keeper. His magic sufficed for such mundane tasks, and the cost was negligible.

But he had wanted her. He had known his curse would be completed soon. He'd also known there was very little of his humanity left after three centuries. He'd been afraid he no longer knew how to be human. He'd been afraid that he'd find Baelfire only to be completely unable to interact with him.

He'd had no use for a man who'd offer a gold-spinner more gold for services. That was like offering a stone-mason statues in return for his work. He'd had no more use for the knights, muscle-bound oafs who'd probably attack him as soon as they thought they had an opening. But Belle...she'd seemed sensible and quiet, well-read, and easy enough to cow and manipulate. Or to stop, if she took it in her head to be foolish.

The Dark One tittered and dropped down beside him. “Took her from her friends and fiancee and her family. Didn't even need her. Just took her. And why is that, dearie?” The imp bounced to his feet, bowing in a mocking mimicry of the memory playing out around them. “Well, speak up.”

“I was...selfish. I wanted to...have someone to control. To use her. I...” The words broke in his throat. “Belle...”

The scene shifted, and he watched himself throw Belle in the dungeon, a sneer on his face. Watched as he left her there, in the dress on her back that was all he'd let her bring. No light, no blanket, no pillow. He'd treated her has bad or worse than Regina had ever treated her prisoners, and without even the excuse of rebellion or law-breaking.

She'd come with him in good faith to honor a deal for the safety of her people, and he'd been cruel, treating her in a manner that not even the Duke he'd once lived under and despised would have done. He'd treated her like a slave.

He found himself sobbing, painful tears falling down his cheeks as he watched his own viciousness. He'd justified it as a response to Milah and Cora's betrayals of him, but in truth he'd behaved worse than either of his former lovers, and with far less cause.

“I was...so cruel...Belle...I'm sorry...I'm sorry...” His voice broke on the words, leaving him with nothing to do but watch as he mistreated the woman who would come to mean as much as his life to him.

“Belle...I'm sorry…I'm so sorry...please...” He reached out, then dropped his hand to his side as the uselessness of the gesture slammed into him.

He'd done this, and there was no taking it back, or justifying his cruelty.

*****SM*****

“Belle...”

The cracked whisper made Emma and Belle both sit up straight. Emma had been showing the other woman how to look up things on her phone, something Belle found fascinating, when Gold moaned.

Tears once more stained the pawn shop owners face. His expression twisted in misery. One hand wrenched, trembling, off the sheets. “Belle...” He reached out, straining at his chains, then dropped his hand, anguish washing over him. “Belle...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry…please...Belle...” The already broken voice cracked again.

Belle watched, pity in her face. “I don't understand...why is he calling my name?”

“Because my dad loves you.” Neal's voice was quiet. “He loves you so much he called you when he was dying.” he stood restlessly, then turned to look at her. “I didn't believe my dad could love any more until he called you. I thought he was just telling me what I wanted to hear, when he said he was sorry for letting me go. I thought he might be just...messing around, that he wasn't really dying. Until he talked to you. That was when I knew he was telling me the truth.”

Belle nodded. “He said...I made him want to be the man he used to be.” She reached out and laid a tentative, gentle hand on Gold's wrist, just above the shackle. “I don't...really remember or understand but...the man he is now...the man who did this to himself...is that...is that what he meant?”

Neal's jaw clenched. “A man who sacrificed himself for his family? Yeah. That's exactly who my dad is. Was.” He swallowed hard. “That's who my dad always was. My papa.”

Belle nodded. Just then Gold twisted, hand's twisting in the sheets. “Belle...I'm so sorry Belle...”

Belle watched him. “Why is he apologizing to me?”

Emma settled for leaning against the wall. “Well, according to Henry's book, you two haven't exactly had the easiest relationship history.”

Neal looked up. “Henry's book?”

“He has a book. It tells the stories of everyone who came here from the Enchanted Forest. You're probably in there somewhere, as Gold's kid. Your dad's story with Belle definitely is.”

“Tell me.” Emma hesitated, and Belle stood up and came around the bed to face her. “Please, tell me.”

Emma swallowed. “I don't know everything, but...according to Henry's book, you traded yourself into Gold's keeping as a servant, in exchange for him protecting your family from monsters. So you went with him. He..wasn't a nice guy. Pretty awful, actually, kind of a beast. But...you were stubborn, and he...he kind of developed feelings for you. And you sort of fell for him.”

Belle frowned, then looked back at Gold. “In the story...is there a cup? A chipped cup?”

Emma blinked. “Yeah. You broke it the first time he teased you. He kept using it after, sort of a sentimental thing. Even after everyone came here, that thing was important to him. He beat the hell out of a guy for stealing it from him.”

“Oh.” She looked at Gold, then back. “In the hospital, he brought a cup to me. He seemed so sure it would help me regain my memories. But...I was so scared, so frustrated...I knocked it out of his hand and broke it.” She paused. “I remember...it was chipped.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah. You mentioned that.” She sighed. “He took it pretty hard, when that happened.”

“He looked so sad, so shocked...” She heaved a breath. “He left with you the next day.” She turned back. “In the story...what happened?”

Emma frowned. She'd been more interested in Snow White's story than Belle's, but she'd been curious enough to read the whole thing. If only because of the way Gold had avoided talking about it when she'd arrested him for assaulting Moe French. She pulled the details to the front of her mind with an effort. “You guys developed feelings for each other. But...he didn't think you were serious. So he sent you away from the castle.”

“And I left him.”

“No. You came back. But then you tried to break this curse he had...with True Love, I think. And he got super upset and threw you out. And then someone else told him you'd died.” She was being vague on purpose, but Belle didn't demand more answers. She just tilted her head, a thoughtful look on her face.

“But I didn't die. I was just...” She frowned. “I was...trapped. I think?”

“Yeah. You were. You were a prisoner for a while. But you got out and you went back to him, and he apologized and promised to take care of you. At least, that's what you told me when I met you.”

“And then I got attacked and lost my memories again.”

“Among other things. Like I said, it was a rocky relationship between the two of you.”

Belle nodded again, slowly thoughtfully. Then she looked back at Gold. “But he...he loved me. Even when he sent me away?”

“Pretty sure he did, yeah. If I had to guess, I'd say he's apologizing for sending you away. And...whatever else he did.”

“I think I understand.” Belle studied the tormented man, then walked back around the bed and sat back down in her chair. She studied his face, then gently reached out and brushed the hair from his eyes. “I think...I really do understand.”

Neal cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“I don't...I don't know anything. I can't remember. But...this...being here, with him, watching him do this, seeing how much he cares...what he's willing to go through...” Belle gestured. “I was...I was terrified of the man in the hospital. He was so...so passionate, so intense. But seeing him like this, it's different. Taking care of him, imagining how he must have taken care of me...how he did take care of me, judging by the clothes...” She gestured to the outfit she wore, which Regina had found in a closet. “I think...I could fall in love with someone like that. Maybe...maybe I even have, a little.” She bit down on her lip, shy and hesitant. “It sounds ridiculous, I know, but...it's the truth. I just wish I could remember what it was like before.”

“I don't think it matters. Right now, all that matters is that we figure out how we feel about him now, and what we're gonna do when he wakes up.” Emma watched as Gold flinched, expression contorting in grief.

“Yeah. I just hope we can figure it out before he wakes up.” Neal heaved a sigh and turned back to his father.

Emma watched him as he tenderly wiped a damp rag over his father's face again. Watched Gold, the man she had started out disliking, the man she had distrusted and still kind of did, the man she had grown to sympathize with and almost pity over the past few days. “Yeah.”

*****SM*****

He watched Belle walk away after his memory self told her to go with tears streaming down his cheeks. His expression in the memory was impassive and carved from stone, but watching broke his heart anew.

'She's right you know.' The Dark One snickered at him.

"I know. I am a coward. I was too afraid to believe in her. I couldn't even tell her why the magic mattered, that I wanted it to find my son. I sent her away because I wasn't willing to take the chance. I'd rather break her heart than risk letting her break mine any further. I was a coward, and I was selfish.” He sucked in a ragged, sobbing breath. “That's what I do. I let people go so I don't have to risk anything. First Bae, then Belle.”

'Nice to see you're finally owning up to it.' The Dark One giggled. 'Of course, from here on, everything's for your curse. Shall we see what you did next, dearie?'

No waiting, he was simply swirled away into another memory. Not that he cared.

He was a coward, and a monster. No memory could tell him what he didn't already know. Everyone he touched, he either used or shoved away, twisted or tried to break, either to achieve his ends or to protect himself and his own interests. No matter how he justified it, it was all the same.

He'd always be a selfish bastard, willing to let everyone else suffer rather than endure the consequences of his own actions or risk his own heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end of the curse...


	9. Wake Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spell finishes, and Gold and Henry wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning to anyone who has issues with aftermath of trauma. Rumplestiltskin is NOT in a good place at the end of this.

David and Mary Margaret arrived around 5 pm. Both were tired but alert. David had even managed the foresight to stop by Granny's and pick them up all dinner. Gold had subsided into quiet again, only his occasional flinch giving away the continuing progression of his memories.

After eating, Emma called Regina. The Queen was still at the hospital, and reported that Henry's vital signs were stronger than ever. From there, they held a quick council.

Emma and Regina both wanted to be there for Henry when he woke. They were his mothers, after all. Belle and Neal were equally adamant about remaining with Gold. That left the Charmings.

After some discussion, Regina pointed out that Gold was unlikely to want anyone to see him. He might tolerate his son and Belle, but the rest of them would most likely be unwelcome. Given the way he played things close to the chest, and his reaction when he'd been stabbed by Hook, Emma had to agree with Regina.

Of course, that assumed that Gold was in any way still sane and coherent. But none of them were willing to voice the alternatives aloud.

Finally they decided that Emma would join Regina at the hospital, Neal and Belle would stay with Gold, and the Charmings would wait in the wings to provide supplies and assistance to whoever needed it. Gold, at least, was likely to need medical attention, clean clothing, and a supply of products to take care of hygiene and cleaning himself up.

The Charmings left to start collecting the necessary supplies for Gold and Henry right after dinner. Emma left shortly after, to bring Regina dinner and join her in her vigil over Henry.

All of them were tense. None of them knew what would happen when Gold's spell ended. All of them felt the lingering fear that it wouldn't be enough, that saving Henry might require someone to die after all. All of them were afraid that, even if Henry was all right, Gold might be driven to something terrible, if the effects of the spell were as severe as Regina had predicted.

Emma felt restless, unable to settle. They were all tired, snappish, and it was all she could do to not pace and pick fights with Regina. Regina seemed to have had the same thought, focusing all her attention on Henry.

The hours ticked by, into night, then into morning. And they waited.

*****SM*****

The last years before the curse were a tangle of deeds that he scarcely paid attention to. Watching his own cruelty to Belle had taken the last of his strength, leaving him broken as he watched himself manipulate the Charmings and Regina. Even his deal with Ella, the anguish he had caused the little maid just so he could be locked away.

He watched his final act, goading Regina into killing the one she loved most. Her father. The last person who loved her.

He had done that. Made her kill her father. He had written the curse with that cost, knowing he would never have to pay it. The cruelty of it scorched his already tattered soul with shame.

'Quite the monster you are.' The Dark One sneered at him. 'Goading her into killing her father, setting her up for this. And all that, when you knew she'd be disappointed in the end.'

“I know. But I didn't care. As long as I got to Bae. I didn't care.” His voice broke on the words.

'And you weren't any better in the land without magic, were you? Still the same, even without...well, me, whispering in your ear.'

New memories enveloped him. Not of his time under the curse, where his life had been at least partially scripted by Regina. But after that, after he'd awoken.

He watched himself manipulate Emma and Regina, dangling each one's hopes in front of them. Mostly Emma, as he pushed her into becoming the savior. And into owing him a favor. He watched himself threaten to take a child, start a fire, beat a man half to death in a fit of anger, bribe his way out of jail. Watched himself frame an innocent woman for kidnapping and murder. Watched himself trick Emma into fighting a dragon, only to steal the thing she'd worked so hard to retrieve.

Through it all, the Dark One sneered and laughed at him, whispering reminders of the selfishness that motivated every action. The thrill of power that had come with each manipulation, each successful power play. Not that he needed reminding, but the whispers were like knives and salt in what was left of his soul, already flayed to the core.

The curse broke. He watched himself bring magic to a land unprepared for it. Magic, brought to the land without magic solely for his own comfort. So he could use it.

He had disrupted the natural order of two worlds simply for his own selfish ambitions.

He watched himself set a wraith on Regina for the sake of vengeance, with no care for the consequences. Watched himself lie to Belle until he drove her away, then got her caught up in his vendetta with Hook.

He watched himself watch Henry, the realization that the boy was both his grandson and his doom. Walked with the boy along the streets of New York, showing him a kindly face while he warred between protecting the boy and killing him.

He watched himself convince Snow White to use the candle on Cora, knowing what it would do, to Cora and to Regina and to Snow White herself. He'd known what it would feel like, that first blackening of the heart, but he had turned her own emotions against her. Used her feelings about family, and about justice, to manipulate her into killing Cora.

Cora had tried to taint Snow White's heart and failed. He had succeeded, just as he had with Regina, so many years before.

She had asked him how he could live with that, and he'd told her. He'd told himself he'd done what was needed, what was right. The lesser of two evils.

Now, all he could see was how he'd twisted yet another innocent, just to preserve his own life. He saw the selfishness, the cruelty.

'Oh yes indeed. Quite the monster you are, dearie. Even here.' The Dark One snickered.

Darkness wrapped around him, and no new image formed. He looked up at the Dark One. “What...”

“Congratulations. You made it to the end. Didn't think you had it in you.” The Dark One sneered. “Of course, now you'll have to live with it. No way to undo what you know now. Just like Snow, you'll have to live with what you've done, and what you are, and all those little dark spots on your heart.” The Dark One darted forward, tapped his chest, and he recoiled. “Sorry dearie...can't escape me now.” The sneer twisted. “Time for both of us...to go back.”

To go back, to face all the people he'd wronged...his breath seized in his chest. “No...”

There was no apology he could make, nothing he could do to ease 300 years of sins, and the wrongs he had done. “No...”

“No choice, I'm afraid. Time to finish things.”

The Dark One surged into him, power and pain all at once. He screamed as it catapulted him out of the dark. Back to light. Back to life. And back to face the horror of what he had become.

*****SM*****

She'd spent most of the night waiting, and yet it still took her by surprise.

One minute, Emma was contemplating getting fresh cups of coffee for her and Regina. Then the monitors beeped, and everything shot upwards. She and Regina bolted out of their respective chairs, just as Henry's eyes snapped open with a gasp.

She had Henry's hand in the next instant, Regina on his other side as he breathed. “Hey kid. It's okay. Just take deep breaths. You're okay.”

Henry obeyed. Then blinked, his eyes focusing. “Mom...” His eyes cut to Regina. “And...mom.” He coughed.

“Here.” Regina handed her adopted son a cup of water. Henry glanced at Emma. She nodded, and he drank. Regina let him have little sips until the water was gone.

Once the water was gone, Henry looked a little better. Whale came in, checked his vitals. “Looks like he's back to normal.” The doctor clapped Henry on the shoulder. “Welcome back.” Then he left.

Henry frowned. “I...I don't understand. I was...I was in the vault. With you.” He looked at Regina. “We were talking and then...everything just went black.” He looked suddenly fearful.

“Hey.” Emma knew that look. And while she was almost tempted to let Henry be wary, she wasn't going to frighten Henry for no reason. Besides, it wasn't fair. Regina hadn't actually done anything. This time. “Hey. It was an accident.”

Henry blinked, but relaxed. “What happened to me?”

“You were in my vault. You offered to help me sort through some of my mother's things.” Regina offered the words.

Henry nodded. “I remember that.”

Regina carefully folded her hands around hers. “Henry...I didn't know about everything my mother had in there. I promise you, I didn't know. But...you touched one of her things...and it was cursed. When you touched it, the curse activated. I don't know if it would have done that to anyone, or if it was a trap my mother left, but I am sorry. I didn't know it would do that. If I had, I would have made sure it was disposed of before you came near it.”

Henry studied her face, then nodded again. “I believe you.” he glanced from Regina to Emma, then back again. “So...what happened?”

“You were cursed. It was fatal.” Emma swallowed hard.

Henry paled, then rallied. “But you broke it. With True Love's Kiss, like before. Right?”

Emma bit her lip, then shook her head. “This curse...it was designed to resist True Love's Kiss. Mr. Gold...he recognized it.”

Henry's eyes widened. “Then how am I still alive?”

Emma grimaced, then looked at Regina. Mercifully, the queen took over. “You're alive because Mr. Gold knew the counter. He supplied the counter to the curse in order to save you.”

Henry blinked, twitching backwards a little in surprise. “Mr. Gold? You mean...my grandpa?”

“Yeah.”

“Why'd he cast it? Why not one of you?”

“Because...” Regina faltered.

Emma picked up the thread of the story. “The counter for the curse was to sacrifice something. The thing most important to you. For us...that would have been you. So you see...Regina and I couldn't save you. But Gold could.”

She'd hoped that being unconscious for so long might have left Henry a little sleepy still. But Henry picked up on her unease at once. “So...what did he sacrifice?” His eyes widened. “He didn't kill my dad...”

“No, not that.” Regina reassured him quickly. “What he sacrificed was...” She hesitated. “His peace of mind.”

Henry frowned. “What? What does that mean?”

If she hadn't promised Henry to be honest with him, she'd have been tempted to break her deal to Gold and not tell him. But she had promised. Emma took a deep breath. “He cursed himself, to relive everything he's ever done, in his mind. He made himself...vulnerable.”

Henry's expression went grave. “So...he punished himself, for all the bad things he's ever done, and he left himself defenseless. So he could save me.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah.”

Henry swallowed hard. “That sounds...kinda horrible.”

“It is.” Emma hesitated, then squeezed his hand gently, trying to offer him comfort for what she had to say next. “It's been over a week since you were cursed.”

Henry went wide-eyed. “So...Mr. Gold...my grandpa...he's been...”

“It's not good kid.” Regina stroked Henry's hair, and the motion seemed to soothe him a little. For once, Emma was glad of the former queen's experience in calming her son. “He asked us to tell you the truth. And the truth is...he's not in good shape. The spell he used...most people don't recover from it.” She met Regina's eyes, and saw approval.

Apparently she wasn't the only one who thought it best not to tell Henry that most people who survived Gold's spell committed suicide.

“Then we need to help him. If he hurt himself to save me, then we need to help him.” Henry's expression turned from shocked to resolute in a heartbeat. Emma found herself smiling, admiring his resilience.

“We will.” She wrapped an arm around her son's shoulders and hugged him. “Your dad and a friend are with him now, and as soon as Whale says you're good to go, we'll see about joining them. Deal?”

Henry nodded. “Deal.”

Regina and Emma shared a knowing look over the top of Henry's head.

Henry being awake and safe meant Gold would be awake too. Now they had to hope that Belle and Neal would be able to handle him until the rest of them could get there to help.

*****SM*****

One minute his father was still, quieter than he'd been in days. The next, all hell broke loose.

Rumplestiltskin screamed, bolting upright in the bed as his eyes snapped open for the first time since he'd drunk the potion that had sent him under. He might have launched himself completely off the bed, if not for the chains.

Neal caught his arm. “Hey. Easy. Easy. It's okay. It's okay papa. Easy.”

Rumplestiltskin jerked away from his touch. “Bae?”

“Yeah.” Neal stayed where he was, his hand outstretched, his voice low and soothing. “It's me. You're okay. It's okay.”

“No. No...it isn't.” Rumplestiltskin's face contorted. “It's not...what I've done...Bae...” He flinched away as Neal tried to touch him. “What I've done...”

“I know. Hey...” Neal got one knee onto the bed. “Hey. One thing at a time. We need to get these chains off you. Please papa? For me. Help me get these off you and we'll talk.” He set one hand on Rumplestiltskin's ankle. His father flinched.

“Bae...I...”

“Help me get the chains off. Then we'll talk.” Neal tried not to let his unease show in his voice. He didn't like hearing his father sounding so broken. Even as the spinner, he'd never sounded this bad. “Is there a key?” He reached out and shook his father's shoulder lightly. “Hey. Focus. Is there a key?”

“In the cabinet...” Rumplestiltskin looked at the chains. “Bae...I deserve this...”

“No. You don't.” Belle reached out to touch him as Neal rose and went to the cabinet. “Whatever you've done...you don't deserve this.”

Rumplestiltskin wrenched away, recoiling as if she'd burned him. “Belle?”

“Yes. I came to help you.”

“You can't...after what I've done...What I did to you...” Rumplestiltskin's voice cracked and broke on the words. “Oh gods...I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry...”

“We know pop.” Neal came back with the sturdy key he'd found on the lower shelf. He took Rumplestiltskin's ankle in his hand, trying to ignore the way his father flinched as he inserted the key and twisted. The shackle opened with a click, and he pulled it free and dropped it over the side of the bed before standing and walking around the bed to undo the other one.

The second ankle cuff clicked open. Rumplestiltskin jerked, then curled in on himself, huddling into the head of the bed, his head clasped in his hands. Neal reached for the left wrist shackle, and his father pulled away. “No. I...I deserve this.”

“No. You don't.” Neal caught his father's wrist. Rumplestiltskin flinched and gasped as his hand closed on the bandages. Neal grimaced, knowing the firm grip had to hurt. He focused instead on opening the manacle and gently releasing his father's wrist.

“You don't know what I've done.” Rumplestiltskin was shaking. “Bae...” He looked up, meeting Neal's eyes for the first time. The anguish in the older man's gaze was staggering.

“I know.” Neal caught his wrist and released the final cuff with a quick twist. “I know. Papa...”

“You don't. You don't know. Bae...I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, my boy.” Magic swirled as Neal reached for him. Rumplestiltskin disappeared, to reappear by the doorway. The older man staggered. Neal and Belle both stood. Rumplestiltskin's hands came up, warding off and pleading at the same time. His expression was a mask of grief and pain and self loathing. “I'm so sorry. You were right Bae. I became a monster. I've done...horrible, unspeakable things.” Tears trickled down the gaunt face. “I don't...I don't deserve you, either of you.”

Neal could feel the power gathering, could feel that his father was on the verge of disappearing again. He held up his hand, speaking quickly. “Even if that's true...don't make a bigger mistake by leaving now.”

Rumplestiltskin froze, staring at him. “Bae...”

“Whether I want to be around you or not is my choice. Just like Belle. You regret letting us go, driving us away, right? So don't screw up now by making that mistake again.” Neal edged closer, Belle half a step behind him, following his lead. “Understand me? Don't you disappear on me now, papa.” He swallowed hard, knowing his next words would either stay his father's hand or break his mind entirely. “If you're really sorry...don't run away.”

Rumplestiltskin's expression contorted. “I'm a monster Bae…”

“I don't care. If I ever meant anything to you...if you really want to make up for what happened between us...” Neal moved closer, until he could grab his father's shoulder. “If you want to make up for letting me go...” He felt the older man flinch in his grip. He held on tight, pulling himself closer so he could wrap his father in an embrace and whisper in his ear. “Stay. Stay now. Don't let go again, papa.”

He felt the tightly coiled muscles, the way his father was poised on the edge of flight. Then the resistance disappeared and Rumplestiltskin crumpled to the ground. Neal and Belle followed him down, crouching as Rumplestiltskin crashed to his knees. He would have fallen further, but Neal clutched his shoulders. “Papa?”

“I...Bae...I'm a monster...” Rumplestiltskin raised his face, revealing an expression Neal hadn't seen since his father had been the spinner. “I'm ashamed...”

“I know. I understand. We'll get through it. I just need you to stay for now.” Neal cupped his father's face with one hand. “Will you do that for me and Belle?”

There was a moment of hesitation, then Rumplestiltskin managed one short nod. Then he turned away, drawing in on himself.

Neal shared a worried glance with Belle. They'd managed to keep him from disappearing.

He just wished he knew what to do beyond that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spell may be over, but they aren't out of the woods yet...


	10. The Light in Your Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group convenes to try and figure out how to help Rumplestiltskin. Henry has a bright idea.

“How is he?”

Emma dropped a large coffee in front of Neal then slid into the bench across from him, cradling her hot chocolate.

Neal looked tired. Dark circles like bruises ringed his eyes, and he was sporting two or three days worth of stubble. His shirt looked rumpled and slept in, and his hair was mussed and greasy.

Neal grimaced and took a large gulp of coffee, wincing at the heat. “Still the same, pretty much.”

Emma matched his expression. “Still?”

Two days had passed since the spells had been broken. Henry had been released from the hospital the day before, completely recovered from his curse and full of his usual energy.

Gold had locked himself inside his house, refusing to see anyone besides his son and Belle. And, from what Neal had relayed over short phone conversations, barely talking to them.

Between them, Belle and Neal had managed to force him to eat and clean up, and his magic had apparently healed his wounds. Physically, he was almost completely recovered, except for the weight he'd lost and the shadows under his eyes. But he was a ghost, quiet and broken, flinching and ducking away from any form of contact or conversation.

Emma sipped her hot chocolate. “Did you tell him about Henry?”

“Told him the kid made a full recovery. Didn't seem to make much difference.” Neal blew across the top of his cup, then took another, slower sip. “He just flinched, the way he does whenever we try to talk to him.” He sighed and dropped his cup, his head hanging. “I don't know what to do. I mean, I spent so long wishing that he'd...that he'd realize what the curse made him, how wrong it was. And now he has, and I just wish he'd go back to being the way he was.”

“Yeah. I think I understand. I keep remembering what it was like, watching him while he was in that trance.” She'd had nightmares the night before, of herself in Gold's position.

Neal's fingers toyed with the rim of his cup. “Kinda makes me think about all the things I regret, the things I'm sorry for. You know?” He looked up at her. “Like leaving you the way I did.”

“Yeah. We'll have to talk about that sometime.”

“He told me you'd have a good life. August, I mean. He said that you'd get out and forget me and go on to have a good life. That he'd take care of you, look out for you.” Neal swallowed hard. “I...I left you the car and all the money I had...and I tried to believe he was telling me the truth. Truth is, I was running from my past and I didn't want to get caught up in the whole destiny thing.” A sad smile crossed his face. “Guess I'm a little more like my dad than I wanted to admit in New York.”

Emma considered her options. She was mad about how he'd abandoned her and left her in jail. But she also knew how persuasive August/Pinocchio could be. And she could understand, especially after reading Henry's book, why Neal might have wanted to run from the Enchanted Forest and any reminders of his past or his family. She'd had the same urges herself often enough.

She swirled her hot chocolate in her cup, then looked up at him. “You planning on running now?”

Neal shook his head. “Nah. I've got too much here. I need to help my pop, even if it's just so I can settle things with him. And I wanna get to know Henry. He is my kid, after all.” He looked up at her, brown eyes wide and guileless. “I'd like to get to know you again too.”

He wasn't asking for a renewed romantic relationship. She could handle 'getting to know'. “I think I'd like that.” He matched her tentative smile with one of his own. Then she returned her attention to their original topic of discussion. “So...about your dad...”

Neal grimaced. “I don't know.”

She stirred the dregs of the cooling chocolate. “You know...Henry said we just needed to show him that we forgive him, and remind him of all the good he's done.”

“Easier said than done. It's hard enough getting him not to disappear.” Neal sighed. “I'm not sure he'd listen anyway. When I was a kid...that was the thing about him. He was always so defeated, so ashamed. It didn't matter how much I supported him, or thanked him, or told him I loved him. And then...” his fingers fiddled with a sugar packet before he tossed it across the table. “When he was the Dark One, it was the opposite. You couldn't get him to admit he'd done anything wrong. There's got to be a middle ground, but I don't know how to get him there.”

Emma reached across to lace her fingers in his. “Yeah, well, good news. You don't have to figure it out alone. So...” She shook his hand, making him look at her from where he'd dropped his gaze. “Think you can chance leaving him for a couple hours?”

“He said he wouldn't leave. And he barely notices that we're there now.” Neal swallowed hard, pain in his eyes.

“Then why don't you and Belle come over to my parent's place tonight? We'll get together, maybe call Archie, and figure out a plan. Then we can work together on helping him.” She squeezed his hand gently.

Neal allowed himself a weak half smile. “Didn't know he meant so much to you guys. I figured, given his reputation...”

“He's family. That means something, no matter how much of a bastard he is. Even Regina admitted that.” She offered him a smile in return, and was rewarded with a slight relaxing of his shoulders. “We'll figure it out.”

“Okay. I'll tell Belle, and we'll come. Unless something happens.” He looked up at the clock on the wall, then knocked back the rest of his coffee and stood. “I promised to bring breakfast.”

“Yeah. I gotta get to work. And make sure Henry gets to school.” She drained the rest of her hot chocolate. “See you tonight.”

“Yeah.” He smiled, then went to the counter to place an order. Emma watched him a moment, then left to collect her son and make her way to the sheriff's office.

Maybe it would be a slow day and she could stop by Dr. Hopper's office sometime on her rounds for a consultation.

*****SM*****

Night had fallen.

He had a vague memory of Bae coming to him, saying that he and Belle were going out. Asking him to stay in the house, to not leave. He had promised to stay, he remembered that.

Now the house was empty, dark and quiet and cold. Fitting for him, for the monster he was.

Perhaps Bae and Belle had finally left him, as he'd known they would. As they should. They shouldn't be trapped with him, not after he'd flung them both away and refused to listen, scorned their help and their love for power and darkness and empty promises.

The memories flowed, causing him to bury his head in his hands and weep.

Alone in the dark, Rumplestiltskin surrendered once more to his guilt, and his grief.

*****SM*****

Neal escorted Belle to the Charming's loft. It was a little crowded with seven people, but there were enough chairs for everyone to take a seat. Emma and David had picked up Granny's for everyone, and Snow had made tea for the adults and juice for Henry.

Dinner was eaten in relative quiet, passing plates and trying to ignore the awkwardness. Regina was still noticeably cold to Snow, while Snow still seemed abashed and a little ashamed around the former queen and mayor. Belle was uneasy in such a large group of relative strangers, and Neal didn't feel much better.

Henry, in contrast, was restless, and seemed determined to wolf down his food as fast as possible in order to get to the rest of the evening. Regina chided him once for manners, and Emma warned him not to choke, but it didn't seem to slow him down much.

Finally, the wrappers and disposable dishes were cleared away. Adults collected their after-dinner drinks, and Snow made hot chocolate for Henry.

Neal was the first one to break the silence. “So...I guess we all know why we're here. My dad. He's…he's not doing so good.” He laced his fingers together. “What he did...”

“The Shattered Masks spell can only be completed if the person under the spell acknowledges what they see and accepts their own failings. I imagine that three hundred years of being the Dark One is a heavy burden.” Regina folded her arms.

“Yeah. And it's killing him.” Neal winced. “I've tried to talk to him, but...” He shrugged and dropped his head, the slump of his shoulders revealing more than words ever could.

“But it isn't enough.” Belle finished the sentence quietly.

“You just need to make sure he knows all the good he's done. And you have to forgive him.” Henry piped up. “We just need a way to show him.”

David sighed. “I'm not sure that's enough. I mean, if you two can't get through….”

“Henry's right.” Emma interrupted her father as Henry started to slump. “I stopped to talk to Archie earlier. I couldn't tell him the specifics, of course, because of the deal, but I kind of...asked around it, I guess. I asked him what he would do, if he had a patient or a friend who'd done something and was suffering from severe guilt or remorse. He said to reaffirm positive things. And to try and help them find ways to make amends.”

“With his kind of power? I can think of a few things.” David drummed his fingers on the table.

“First we gotta get him out of this depression he's in. And that's not gonna be easy. My dad's good at feeling guilty.” Neal grimaced.

“I've got an idea.” Henry bounced in his seat. “I was trying to think of things we could do, so I checked in the library and online. You know...after school.”

“Really?” Emma cocked an eyebrow at her son. “So...what did you come up with?”

Henry's face lit up. He bounced out of the chair and over to his backpack, pulling out the Once Upon a Time storybook and a sheaf of printouts. “I was thinking of some stuff Archie wanted me to do. When I was in therapy before...well, you know, before the curse broke. And after, when we talked about my mom. So I did some research. See...” he spread out the papers. “You write down all the bad stuff someone did, and then you destroy it, sort of like saying that you forgive them, and it's done with. And then you write down all the good stuff that person did and you keep that notebook, or you give it to them. To remind yourself and them of all the good stuff they did, so that if someone forgets, you can go back and look at it again.”

“Interesting...” Snow looked at the papers.

“Yeah. And it kind of works.” Henry shifted. “I kind of...started a notebook after the curse was broken.” He looked at Regina. “I wanted to forgive you for all the bad stuff you did as the Evil Queen. So I could focus on helping you become good and stay that way.” He blushed.

Regina softened, a sad smile on her lips. She stood and went around the table to hug her adopted son. “Thank you, Henry.”

David flicked his eyes over the papers. “I guess it's worth a shot. We can pick up a couple notebooks at the store.”

“Or do this.” Regina flicked her wrist and two thick college ruled notebooks appeared. Snow rose and collected several pens.

Belle frowned. “But...how can we possibly know everything?”

Emma shrugged. “We don't have to know everything he's done. Just enough to make the point.”

Neal shrugged too. “I know some stuff.”

Henry grinned. “And we have this.” He held up the Book. “Rumplestiltskin is in practically every story here. We just read through the book, and write down everything he does, in the good or the bad notebook.”

David tapped a finger. “I can add some stuff, especially to the bad notebook.” Neal glared at him, and the former prince shrugged. “Your dad asked my help to find someone once. When I was asking around town I ran into a lot of people with grievances against him. I got an earful from...well, everyone.” He looked at Henry. “More stuff for us to burn.”

Regina frowned. “You know...” She looked around the table. “At least three of us used to be royalty back in the Enchanted Forest. And I suppose Miss Swan technically counts.” She tilted her head to Neal. “I get the impression Rumplestiltskin wasn't nobility.”

“He was a spinner. The best in the region.” Neal's eyes were hard, daring her to say anything unkind.

“Then he would understand the meaning of a full royal pardon. If Henry's idea needs a little extra...official sanction.”

Neal sat up straighter, his animosity disappearing. “He would.” He met Regina's eyes. “Would you give it to him?”

“To the man who made me the Evil Queen? I'm not inclined to, no. To the man who taught me to think for myself, trained me, made me a competent ruler? As repayment to the man whose love I destroyed, simply out of spite? Yes. I think I could.”

Snow and David exchanged a glance. Then Snow spoke. “I think...we did imprison him. And he didn't even really commit a crime when we did. Between that and everything he did for us, even if his motives were a little selfish...we could issue him a pardon.”

Emma shrugged. “I'm not really anyone's idea of a princess. But if I have a vote...I don't know if I like him, but I think he's paid enough.”

“Add that to the to-do list.”

“This is going to take a lot of work.” Emma eyed the book and the notebooks. “I think that's enough. If this doesn't work...”

“If this doesn't work, I'm going to fudge on the deal and bring that psychiatrist dude to him.” Neal shrugged. “Pop can live with it. I'd rather try this first, but still...”

“Great. Let's get to it then.” Emma thumped her hand on the table. “Who does what?”

“I think I should work on the drafts of the pardon.” Regina tapped one nail. “I did have more experience with that aspect of ruling.”

Neal reached out for a notebook. “I wanna start the good notebook.”

David nodded. “We can start the bad, I guess.” He reached for the other notebook.

Belle moved. “I can...I can help read, or take notes.” She paused. “And I...I have some stuff to add to the good notebook, from the hospital.”

Henry moved to sit between her and Emma. “You and Emma can help me mark stuff in the book.”

Emma got up and disappeared into another room, to reappear with a handful of post it notes. She flopped down beside her son. “All right. Let's get to it.”

Henry flipped open the book. The rest of them took their cue from him and settled in.

There was a lot to be done, and the sooner they were done, the better.

*****SM*****

The work took two days. Neal and Belle had to take breaks to return to the house and make sure Rumplestiltskin was all right, or at least still there and still alive. They both returned disheartened. Neal reported that his father was worse, rapidly sliding into what seemed a near-catatonic state.

The rest of them took breaks for work, rest and food. Snow and Henry both called in sick to the school, knowing it would be believable since Henry had been cursed, but David and Emma split shifts at the sheriff's station, and Regina had work in the town, managing property and businesses that she owned. She finished the pardons within half a day, then spent the rest of the time managing them, making sure everyone got rest and work done. She also had a great deal to contribute to the notebooks, personal moments that hadn't made it into Henry's book.

The work was almost as soul-scraping and revealing as Rumplestiltskin's trance had been, each of them remembering different things.

Neal remembered the father he had loved, before he'd become the Dark One, and the man who had lost his fight against the curse in those last two years. Looking back, he could see the moments where his father had obviously been fighting his cursed nature, and he wished he'd understood then what was happening.

Belle read and wrote the accounts, good and bad. She read the story of her relationship to the Dark One. And she reflected on the complicated nature of the man who knew and loved her, had loved her through so much. A man she'd once loved, and had come to care for over the past several days.

Regina remembered an imp, a teacher. She thought of the man who had once loved her mother enough to alter a deal for her, a man her mother had loved enough to rip her own heart out of her chest to avoid caring about. The man who'd been teacher, adviser, friend, enemy, opponent and rival since she was sixteen.

David remembered the man who'd taken him from his home setting him on the path to meeting his True Love. Who had mocked him and driven him mad, and yet also helped him keep and save Snow. And when he looked into his wife's eyes, he saw that she remembered the same.

Emma thought of the infuriating man she'd first met at Granny's Inn. And the man she'd gotten to know while going to New York. A man who was, at the heart of it all, a father who'd spent forever looking for his son, and done whatever he had to do to find him.

Henry studied the life of the man who was his grandfather. The Dark One, even more dangerous than the Evil Queen. The simple spinner, who had once broken his own leg to be a father. The man he'd been afraid of while growing up in Storybrooke. The man he'd gotten to know while going to New York. The man who had suffered the punishment of 300 years worth of darkness to save him.

Finally, they were ready.

*****SM*****

Neal paused, then knocked softly on the door to his father's room. “Papa? Hey, can I come in?”

No answer. But then, he hadn't expected one. Rumplestiltskin rarely answered him, and hadn't at all in the last two days, in the brief moments he'd come to check on the man.

Everyone else was downstairs waiting. He took a deep breath, then pushed the door open.

The room was dark. After a moment, he found Rumplestiltskin, crouched in the corner, hands over his face, trembling. The sight broke his heart, reminding him all too much of the way his father had cowered before other men when he was a boy.

He moved forward and crouched in front of his father. “Hey.”

Rumplestiltskin flinched. “Bae...”

“Yeah. Hey...there's food downstairs. You should come eat.” He doubted his father had eaten in two days. He certainly hadn't when either he or Belle had been home.

“I...I thought you left.” The older man's voice was cracked and broken.

“Nah. I had something to do, but I didn't leave. Not forever, anyway.” He reached out and touched his father's shoulder, hating how Rumplestiltskin flinched under his hand. “Come on. Let's go downstairs and eat.”

“You should leave. I...I'm a monster. The things I've done...”

“I know. You've said that. But I'm not leaving.” Neal sighed, then fastened one hand on his father's shoulder in a firm but gentle grip. “Look, can we talk about this over food? Please Papa? You need to eat something.” Rumplestiltskin looked at him with wide, tortured eyes. Neal pulled in a breath, then played the card he figured was most likely to work. “Come on. Come downstairs. For me. You'll make me feel better if you come down and eat something.”

There was no response, but after a moment, the tense body under his hand relaxed a little. Neal took that as permission and levered himself to his feet, dragging his father up after him. Rumplestiltskin shivered, but didn't fight him as he gently guided him to the door and out into the hall.

In the brighter light, Rumplestiltskin looked terrible. Two days of stubble dusted his face, and he'd clearly done nothing to maintain his appearance. His hair was lank, his clothing creased and messy. Neal considered telling him to clean up, then decided it didn't matter. Everyone who'd come knew his father was in a bad state, and everyone but Henry had seen him look much worse.

He led his father down the stairs, guiding him to the kitchen. They'd chosen to congregate there, both for eating, and for the ease of access to the back yard, to implement the ceremonial part of Henry's plan. He and Belle had already built a fire pit. He just hoped they'd get to use it.

Rumplestiltskin followed him as far as the door then froze, wide eyed and shocked, at the sight of the people gathered there. “Bae...what...”

“Some people came to talk to you.” He faced his father. “Come on.”

“I can't...I can't.” Rumplestiltskin was white-faced, shaking. He looked as if he could barely stand upright. “Bae...I can't...”

Neal held him fast, preventing him from running. “I know.” He kept his voice gentle. “But you need to. You owe it to them.”

Rumplestiltskin flinched. “I can't...” His expression was broken, terrified in a way it hadn't been since that night by the portal. “Please...I can't...”

Henry stood and walked over, dark-eyed and solemn. “Hey Grandpa.”

Rumplestiltskin's attention snapped to him so fast it was a wonder he didn't give himself whiplash. Dark, bloodshot eyes widened. “Henry...” He stopped struggling, frozen by shock. “What are you…?”

“I came to say thank you. For saving me.” Brown eyes, exactly like his father and grandfather's, held his grandfather's gaze. “My parents told me what you did for me. How you cursed yourself for me.”

Rumplestiltskin flinched. “I...”

“The Shattered Masks spell.” Regina interrupted him. “A spell meant to reform criminals by making them acknowledge and repent of their failings and crimes. Quite a serious spell.” Gold looked at her, and she held his gaze. “Honestly, if I hadn't verified it myself, I wouldn't have believed you could cast it. Let alone complete it.”

Rumplestiltskin shuddered. “I...” The shocked expression shattered into one of pain. “What I did...”

“We know.” Snow came forward. “We know.”

“You should kill me for what I've done.” The words were whispered.

“Maybe.” David moved forward to stand beside his wife. “But that's not what we're here to do.”

“I don't understand.” The haunted gaze flicked from one person to the other.

Emma stepped forward. She studied Rumplestiltskin's wrinkled attire. “Regina...”

Regina gestured. Rumplestiltskin flinched as purple smoke billowed up around him, then blinked as it cleared, leaving behind clothes that were clean and straight and a face that was clean-shaven and surrounded by hair that looked washed and neatly combed. “What...why...”

Emma took another step forward and took the shoulder Neal wasn't holding. “We need you to come outside with us.”

She felt him tense. Then Henry reached out and took Gold's hand. “Come on. We need to do this.”

Rumplestiltskin allowed himself to be pulled forward by his grandson. “What are we doing?” His voice was still wrecked, but it was the most normal he'd sounded since he'd cast the spell on himself.

“You'll see.” Henry dragged him out of the back door into the garden, with Neal and Emma steadying him and the rest of them following along behind.

Rumplestiltskin blinked in the light, frowning as he saw the makeshift fire pit. “What...”

“It's a ceremony.” Henry turned to look at him. “A Forgiveness Ceremony.”

Rumplestiltskin froze, going rigid. “You...you can't mean that...”

“Well, we do.” Neal held his father as Emma let go and crossed to Regina's side. Belle had come up with an idea the night before that they'd all agreed was worth pursuing. She'd pointed out that Rumplestiltskin had never shown much faith in the spoken word, requiring contracts. She'd also reminded them of what Neal had said how his father had never been able to accept his own value, or that anyone could love or forgive him. She'd then asked if there was some form of magic that could add weight to the whole ceremony.

Given that it was practically a ritual already, Regina had agreed that it was possible. She'd hammered out the basic requirements, then enlisted Emma's assistance to bind the ritual with the savior's light magic as well as her own. Emma was still uncomfortable with the whole idea, but she'd agreed to do it, accepting Regina's instructions for casting the required elements.

She and Emma built up the wood for the fire, adding small bundles of herbs. Lavender for peace. Rosemary and Sage for cleansing, plus a few others. Regina looked up. “Mr. Cassidy.”

Neal shifted one hand and yanked a strand of hair from his father. Rumplestiltskin jumped, eyes wide as he handed it to Henry. Henry darted over and gave it to Emma, who held it gingerly across her palms, anchored by her thumbs. “For healing.” A link to bind the ceremony to it's subject.

She crouched, mirrored by Regina, setting her hands on the wood and herbs. Regina's hand's supported hers.

Energy crackled in the air. In Emma's hands, the strand of hair began to glow. Then the wood crackled and burst into flame, sending the sweet scent of the herbs washing over all of them. Rumplestiltskin jerked as it hit him, shock on his face. He looked like he wanted to run.

Belle stepped up and took his free hand, providing another anchor to keep him from leaving as Regina fished in her pocket for a vial full of glowing potion. A truth potion, containing a strand of hair from each person. Rumplestiltskin sucked in a shocked gasp when he saw it, his expression saying clearly that he recognized the potion.

Regina studied it a moment, and the glow increased. Then she bent to suspend it above the fire. “For healing.” She dropped it in. A second pulse of magic rolled over the group. Neal knew his dad could tell what it meant. It would bind everyone to honesty. There would be no deception in this ceremony.

Rumplestiltskin began to tremble. Neal squeezed his father's shoulder gently, reassuringly. “It's okay papa. It's okay.”

Rumplestiltskin swallowed hard. “But...what are you doing...”

Neal leaned forward to whisper. “Forgiving you.”

Regina rose. “I believe we're ready to begin.” She turned. “Henry.”

Henry nodded and pulled the backpack he'd been carrying off his shoulder. He opened it and carefully extracted two notebooks and two rolls of parchment. He handed the parchment to his adoptive mother and his grandparents, then turned around to face his paternal grandfather, holding the notebooks in his hands.

Rumplestiltskin stared at him. “Henry?”

Henry squared his shoulders. “We agreed that we're going to help you, starting with forgiving you.” He held up the notebooks. One had the word 'Good' written on the cover. The other had the word 'Evil'. “These notebooks have everything you've done, bad and good. Well, everything we could find or remember. So...this notebook is for you.” He held out the 'Good' notebook.

His grandfather hesitated, then reached out and took the book with trembling hands. “What...”

“It's all the good stuff you've done. For everyone. So when you think you're just evil, you can remember that you can be good too. And when you want to do something bad, you can look at it, to remind yourself why you shouldn't do things like that. I know you're cursed and that makes it harder, but I think you can still be good. After all...you saved me.”

Tears welled up in Rumplestiltskin's eyes. “I've done...so much evil...”

“I know. That's what this notebook is for.” Henry held up the notebook with 'Evil' written on it. “This is all the bad stuff you did. All the stuff we're forgiving you for. This notebook...we're burning this one.” He turned and strode to the fire, then crouched and shoved the notebook into it.

The fire whooshed, the flame turning a myriad of colors as it devoured the ink. The smell of herbs intensified, mingling with the scent of burning paper, as if the cleansing herbs were burning away the sins that had been written on the pages.

The tears spilled over Rumplestiltskin's face. “I don't know what to say.”

Henry stood up and came back to him. “You don't have to say anything. Just listen to us...please.”

His grandfather managed a short nod, tears still tracking down his cheeks.

Henry took a deep breath. “When I was a kid...you kind of scared me. Especially when I found out who you were in the book, and that you were the one who got me adopted here. And you did a lot of bad stuff, back in the Enchanted Forest. But if you hadn't done what you did, I wouldn't exist. And you helped me meet my dad. You helped my mom become the Savior. And you saved me. You cursed yourself to save me. That's important. More important than the other stuff you did, because it proves that you're still fighting your curse. You can still love, even when it's hard. So...” He darted forward and wrapped his arms around Rumplestiltskin's waist, hugging him tightly. “I forgive you, for all the bad stuff you did. Thank you Grandpa, for taking care of me.”

Rumplestiltskin stood frozen for a moment, his hands full of the notebook. Tears trickled down his face. Then he let go of the notebook, leaving it to thump on the ground. Belle retrieved it and put it on the small table by the door as he wrapped his arms around his grandson. His voice was shaking when he finally replied. “Thank you, Henry.”

Henry squeezed, hard enough to make the older man's ribs creak. Then he stepped back.

Emma stepped forward. “My turn.”

Henry's forgiveness and kindness had steadied the older man somewhat, restoring some of his usual composure. Still, he visibly braced himself as he faced Emma. “Miss Swann.”

She studied his face a moment. Then she huffed. “I'm still not sure I like you. Or trust you.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded. “Fair enough.”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe. But the fact is...you did help me. And you got me and Neal back together. Whatever else happens...Henry gets to know both his parents now. You helped Henry with the after-effects and the nightmares of the Sleeping Curse too. And you've taught me some pretty useful stuff. Especially about myself. And we're family now. So...thank you. And I forgive you. Even if I still think you're a bit of a bastard.”

A small, tired smile creased his face. “Thank you, Miss Swan.”

Emma hesitated, then seized him for a brief, awkward hug. She pulled back before Rumplestiltskin could respond.

Snow and David moved forward, standing side by side. Snow was holding the parchment Henry had given them, the fingers of her other hand laced with David's.

David spoke first. “You took me from my mother, sentenced me to life as King George's son. That wasn't the kind of life I wanted.”

“You taught Regina. Not just magic, but how to really hate, how to hurt people. Things might have been different if you hadn't. You manipulated so many people, hurt so many people. You created the curse that brought us all here, destroyed so many lives.” Snow picked up where her husband had left off.

Rumplestiltskin flinched. His own voice was quiet, carrying the echoes of shame and remorse. “I know.”

David nodded. “Still...if you hadn't interfered, I would never have met Snow. We never would have gotten to be together. And we wouldn't have Emma, or Henry. And you helped us a lot, even if you had a price.”

“And when we imprisoned you...I know I disagreed with the deal you made with Ella, but it really wasn't fair, what we did to you.” Snow winced. “All you did was make a deal. She could have lived up to her end, or tried to amend it. Like Emma did.”

“I made that deal for my own reasons.”

“I know. But still, you didn't commit a crime, and we didn't have the right to trick you and imprison you. We certainly didn't have the right to treat you worse than we treated Regina when we captured her.”

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. “I'm a monster, Your Highness.”

“Snow's right.” David drew himself up. “You've still done far more good than harm for my family. That's true, no matter what your motives were. So...”

“We forgive you.” Snow held out the parchment. “And we wanted to give you this.”

Rumplestiltskin took it from her and unrolled it. Neal felt the shudder that went through him as he read it. “A royal pardon?”

“Yes. For all crimes committed prior to this date.” Rumplestiltskin's hand loosened in shock. Neal rescued the parchment and set it with the notebook Belle had rescued before. David took the opportunity to take Rumplestiltskin's hand. “Don't make us regret it. And...” A small smile creased the prince's face. “Welcome to the family.”

Snow moved forward and planted a quick kiss, a blessing, on his cheek. “Welcome to the family.”

Rumplestiltskin's eyes were bright. “I...thank you. I can't tell you...family is...”

Snow smiled. “We've read the book.” She put a hand on his arm. “We know what family means to you.” She pressed his arm, then she and David stepped back.

Regina stepped forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well..what do you think of Henry's idea?


	11. Love's Light Shining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last participants of the ceremony step up. And something unexpected happens

Rumplestiltskin stiffened as his former student strode forward. “Regina.”

The former queen arched an eyebrow, studying him. When she spoke, her voice was neutral. “Did you know you spoke out loud while you were under that spell?”

Rumplestiltskin flinched as if she'd struck him, color draining from his face. Regina continued as if she hadn't noticed. “You said my name. Several times.”

“I did.” Rumplestiltskin drew himself up, facing her. “I...” the composure fled from his expression, leaving shame and grief in it's wake. “I am truly sorry for what I did to you. The way I twisted your life. I am so sorry, more than I can ever begin to say.”

He paused, then reached up. “May I…?” Regina nodded and he touched her face, his hand gentle on her cheek.

When he spoke, his voice was broken, painful to hear. “Your mother promised me a child, you know. I trained her. I loved her. She promised me a child, and then she broke our deal.”

“I know. She told me.” Regina's expression was pained.

“When I first met you, when you first called my name...do you know what I thought? I wished you had been mine. Truly mine. I was so angry...so angry with your mother, I took it out on you. I twisted you...what I did to you, what I encouraged you to do...I would never have done to a child of mine. And I should never have done to you. And I am more sorry than I can ever say...” His voice cracked and broke.

“I know. We both did terrible things. And there are times I still hate you for the things you taught me, and for the way you tricked me. However...” Regina pulled his hand from her face, holding it in her own. “You gave me a chance to be my own woman, to free myself from mother's control. You gave me choices for the first time in my life.”

Rumplestiltskin stood quietly. Regina swallowed hard. “You also gave me Henry. And he's the best thing that ever happened to me. Because of him, I have a chance to redeem myself, to make up for all the horrible things I did when I was consumed with vengeance.”

“You do.” Rumplestiltskin said nothing more.

Regina's free hand held the scroll Henry had given her. She turned Rumplestiltskin's hand over and pressed the roll of parchment into his hand. “You have your son now. And Belle. So, I suppose both of us have been given a second chance. And since that's the case, you should have this. Just don't waste it.”

Rumplestiltskin unrolled the parchment, eyes widening as he read the words. “You're...”

“I might not be a queen any more, but I can still give you a pardon. As I said, don't waste it.” She pursed her lips. “And, when you're feeling up to it, I believe you have some things to teach me. After all, I still can't heal the way you can. And I suspect that's not the only magic I need to learn more about.”

Rumplestiltskin's chin trembled, but he nodded. “I do...I do know something of healing, and some of the other lighter magics. I can show you.”

“I look forward to it.” She reached forward and touched his jaw, a mirror of the gesture he'd used moments before. “Thank you. For saving my son.”

“Thank you. For forgiving me.” The words were soft, but heartfelt. Regina's eyes were shining as she stepped back.

Neal swallowed hard. Then let go of his father's shoulder and moved to stand in front of him. “I guess that means it's my turn.”

Rumplestiltskin blanched. “Bae...” He'd calmed while he was talking to Regina, but he began to shake again. “Bae...”

Neal shifted his weight and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I guess you know what I was originally angry about.”

Rumplestiltskin flinched. “I know.” His hand came up, reaching for Neal's face, the fingers shaking. “I know. Bae...I'm so sorry. I truly...I truly didn't mean to. I didn't mean any of it. I was just...there was so much anger and hurt inside me...and when I became the Dark One, it was always there. And I let it lead me astray. But I swear to you, I never meant...I didn't want to be a monster. I just...I lost my way, let the worst parts of myself take me over. And I am so sorry Bae. I am more sorry than I can ever tell you. When you fell that night...I am so sorry. I never meant to let go, I just...” His voice broke, new tears streaking his face. “I am so sorry Bae. I...I'd spend a lifetime making it up to you, if you'd let me. Bae...”

“I know.” Neal reached up and took his father's hand in his own, the way he had weeks ago when his father had been dying of dream-shade. “I know. Regina was right. You talked while you were cursed.”

Rumplestiltskin's expression crumbled. “I'm sorry Bae. I became a monster. I didn't listen to you. And I...after you fell...”

“I know.” Neal shifted again. “You know...I had some time to think, while I was watching over you. I've been so mad about what happened with the portal, that I forgot some other important stuff. Really important stuff.”

He clasped his hand tighter around his father's. “I forgot that you took care of me. When I was a kid, I always had plenty of food and warm clothing. I always had a sturdy bed, warm blankets. And that was because of you. You took care of me. You made sure I had everything I ever needed, even when it meant you had to go without.”

He pulled his father's hand to his chest. “You refused to send me to die. When the soldiers came for me, you refused to let me die in battle. I didn't understand until I lost you just how much you were protecting me.”

He met his father's gaze. “You let yourself be humiliated for me. And, no matter what else came of it, I know you took that curse to protect me. And even when you were cursed, you took care of me. You kept me safe and you provided for me. The fact that you went overboard and messed up sometimes doesn't change that fact, and it shouldn't have when I was a kid. I wish I'd understood that when we were back there. I wish I'd understood how hard you tried.”

He paused to wet his lips with his tongue. “Like I said, I had time to think. And you know what?” He moved suddenly, wrapping his father in a bear hug. “I'm not mad anymore Papa.”

“Bae...” Rumplestiltskin's arms wrapped around him with a strength that could crack ribs, astonishing for his father's slender frame. “Oh, Bae...my boy...thank you. Thank you.”

Neal could feel tears pricking his eyes. He blinked hard and squeezed tighter. “I love you, Papa. And I forgive you.”

“I love you too, son. I've waited a lifetime to tell you that. I love you so much Bae. I won't let go again.” The words were hoarse, but there was so much love in them that Neal lost the battle and a lone tear escaped.

“I know.” Neal squeezed once more, then stepped back, breaking the embrace. “But you still have one more person to hear from.” He stepped back, giving his father room.

Belle had stepped back when he'd confronted his father. Now she came around to stand in front of him. “Hey.”

Rumplestiltskin's eyes were sad. “Hey.”

Belle shuffled. “You know… I don't remember much. Nothing before that night.”

“The night you got shot.” There was quiet resignation in his voice. “I know.” he hesitated. “Belle...I'm sorry. For a lot of things you don't remember, but also...I didn't mean to pressure you. I didn't mean to frighten you. That night, and at the hospital. I'm sorry. I didn't mean...you deserved better...and I...”

“I know.” Belle silenced him with a finger across his lips. “I mean...I know now. I...well, like Neal said, I had some time to think when I was taking care of you. And I had a chance to talk to some people. And Henry let me read the story in his Book. I can't remember, but I...well, I have a good idea of the things that happened between us. Some of it, at least.”

She shifted her hand to his cheek. “The man in that book...I don't know how I felt about him. I don't know how I'd feel if I met him now. But I do know that he was...that you are, a very complicated man.”

“I'm a difficult man.” His voice was quiet. “And a monster.”

“I don't think you're a monster. The man I watched over in that bed for days wasn't a monster.” Belle ran her thumb across his cheek bone, and Rumplestiltskin shivered. “Regardless of the past, regardless of what we had before...” She stroked his face. “The man who took care of me in the hospital, even if he frightened me...he's a good man. The man who called me when he was dying, the man who took a curse to save his grandson, the man I watched over this past week...that's the Rumplestiltskin Gold that I know. And that man...he's a good man. Complicated, intense perhaps, but a good man. A man that I could fall in love with.”

Rumplestiltskin stiffened, eyes going wide. “Belle...”

She touched his lips again, quieting him more effectively than any words could do. “I had some time to consider it, and...I think I have fallen in love with you, all over again. And, because of that...” She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I forgive you. For everything I remember, and for everything I don't. I forgive you.”

“Belle...” His voice was a quiet, shocked whisper. “I...”

She didn't let him get any further. Instead, she drew him down and kissed him. Rumplestiltskin gasped, then his hands tightened on her waist, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

Magic flared around them. Both of them staggered, breaking the embrace as their hands flew to their foreheads.

Neal caught his father by the elbow. Emma caught Belle. “Hey. You okay?”

Belle looked up. “I...I remember...I remember everything now.” Her eyes were wide. Then they flew back to her True Love, leaning heavily against his son and gasping as if he'd been struck. She moved forward. “Rumple?”

“Belle.” His voice was hoarse, breathless. He met her eyes. “Belle...”

“I remember.” She cupped his face with both hands. “I remember everything.”

“And you still...you still...”

“Of course I still love you. More than ever. And I still forgive you.” She stroked his face.

“And I...I love you, sweetheart.” Neal let his father go as Rumplestiltskin moved, gathering Belle into his arms. “I love you Belle.” Then he bent his head and kissed her again.

Magic flared once more. Rumplestiltskin shuddered under the flare of light, hands clenching tighter around his beloved. A soft groan echoed from his throat as he staggered. Belle and Neal both caught him. “Rumple?”

“I'm all right. Truly. I'm all right.”

Neal frowned. “If you're all right, then what the hell just happened to you? Cause something did.” Two flares of magic, and neither of them had looked like small things.

His father took a deep breath. “Just...something that needed to happen, I think.” He looked up, looking at Regina. “In the shop, in my safe, there's a box. A long, thin box, about six inches deep by sixteen inches long and six inches wide. Plain wood. Oak and rowan wood, inlaid with gold across the top and a locked latch. Could you summon it for me please?”

Regina frowned, but raised a hand. There was a burst of purple smoke, and a box settled into her hands. “This box?”

“Yes. That one. Bring it to me please.”

Regina brought it forward. Rumplestiltskin freed one hand, then fished in a pocket to produce a thin-bladed knife. He carefully nicked his thumb, touching the bloodied finger to the latch. Something clicked, and the whole box shimmered slightly as a set of wards dissipated. He set a hand on the box, then dropped it, shaking, to his side. “Bae...please...”

Neal freed a hand and flicked the lid up, breath hissing between his teeth as he saw what was inside.

His father's dagger lay in the box, swathed in purple silk. The blade glittered silver and black in the sunlight, making him shiver. “Pop...”

Rumplestiltskin touched the blade lightly, then took the hilt and turned the blade over. A gasp like a sob wrenched from his throat as the blade thumped back into the box. “Oh gods...”

For a second, Neal didn't understand. Then he took a closer look at the blade, reaching out to flip it over again. Realization hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. “It's blank. Your name isn't on the dagger any more.”

Belle's eyes widened. “Rumple? Does this mean...?”

“I'm not the Dark One any more. I don't know if the curse has been destroyed, but it's hold over me is broken.” Rumplestiltskin sounded ragged.

“Seriously?” Emma moved forward, craning her head over Regina's shoulder. Henry darted up on his adopted mother's other side, eyes wide. Even Snow and David edged closer. “How the hell did that happen?”

“True Love's Kiss.” Henry was grinning. “The first time broke Belle's memory curse, because they really loved each other. Then the second time, after she remembered and forgave him again, it broke his curse. And you let it.” He smiled at his grandfather. “See. I told you that you could be good.”

“So you did.” Rumplestiltskin reached out and ruffled his grandson's hair. “So you did.”

Neal wasn't sure if that was the whole story. It seemed a little too simple, after all the trouble the Dark One's curse had given them. Then again, they'd attempted to invoke a powerful kind of light magic for the ceremony. Maybe...maybe it had helped. Magic was like that sometimes.

Regina snapped the box shut. “What about magic?”

Rumplestiltskin shook his head. “I don't know. I may still have it. I may not. If I do, it's more likely to be light magic now.” He glanced at his former apprentice. 

“But you aren't cursed any more.” Neal was smiling as well.

“No. I'm not cursed any more. And if I have magic, or if I don't...” Rumplestiltskin took a deep breath, then wrapped one arm around his son and one arm around his love. “It doesn't matter to me now. I have everything I ever wanted magic to accomplish.”

Regina stared at him. “You actually mean that.”

He nodded. “I do.”

“Good.” David smiled. “In that case, I suggest we go inside and celebrate. Dinner's getting cold, and it seems like the perfect occasion to open that wine we brought.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled. A warm, real smile, not a smirk, or a shy, half-hidden smile. The smile stretched across his face and warmed his eyes, turning them bright with laughter and with joy in a way that none of them were sure they'd ever seen before. “I think I'd like that.”


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final explanations, and some family time...

It took a minute or so for everyone to move. No one really wanted to break the spell of the moment. Finally, Emma slung her arm around Henry's shoulder. “Come on. There's food waiting. And that barbecue smells great.”

Regina put out the fire with a wave of her hand. Snow and David went ahead to start laying out food and silverware. Belle went with them, since she knew where everything was.

Rumplestiltskin lingered, his hands tracing over the two scrolls and the notebook he'd been given.

Neal took the chance to slide sideways next to Emma as Regina escorted their son inside. “Hey. Got a second?”

“Sure.” Emma stuffed her hands in her pockets. “What is it?”

Neal watched as his father gathered the papers together and made his way inside. He didn't know if his dad had realized he wanted privacy, or if he just wanted to follow Belle, or even if he was just hungry, but he appreciated it. “When you told my dad that you were glad he got us back together, for Henry...did you mean it?”

Emma cocked an eyebrow. “You have to ask?”

Neal shrugged. “I don't want to make assumptions.” And he didn't. Things were so fragile, between all of them.

Emma considered him a moment. Then she nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

“So...are we still at 'get to know you' or...is there something else you want?” Neal knew what he wanted, but he wasn't going to pressure Emma. “Is this just for Henry, or...”

“This is going to happen one day at a time. You've got a dad to reconnect with, and I have my parents, who I barely know, and we both have Henry. Plus, there's Regina, wherever she fits into this whole complicated thing. And Belle. So...” She smiled and poked him with a finger. “This is going to happen one day at a time. And we'll see where it takes us from there. Okay?”

He'd have to wrap things up and cut some ties in New York, but that didn't bother him nearly as much as it could have. Not when he had his papa back, and a son, and a renewed relationship with Emma to look forward to. Not to mention watching his father and Belle, a sight he'd never thought he'd see, even when the man had been just a poor spinner. “Yeah. That sounds...” He considered his words, then answered her tentative smile with one of his own. “That sounds really great, actually.”

“Good. Then let's go inside. Cause I really am hungry.” She smirked and ducked inside, and he followed after, uncaring of the foolish grin on his face.

Barbecue, ribs and coleslaw and beans and rolls, covered a long table in a room just off the kitchen. White and blue plates had been set out, along with silverware. Spoons were tucked into all the appropriate dishes. Someone had found glasses. The wine looked out of place, and he would have preferred beer, but he was too content to quibble. Besides, if anyone could find a wine that might suit barbecue, it was probably Regina.

Neal managed to nudge his father into sitting at one end of the table. He sat on his father's right, Belle on the man's left. Emma and Henry took the other two seats on his side, Snow and David beside Belle, and Regina at the far end. It looked right, somehow.

Once they were seated, he served his father a plateful of ribs and sauce, with a little of everything else. Rumplestiltskin tried to protest once, but shut up after Belle smiled at him and contributed a roll. Neal grinned, then turned his attention to filling his own plate.

It was one of the oddest dinners he'd ever participated in, but all he could bring himself to care about was his father, eating with an appetite that proved he was finally recovering from his ordeal, and Emma at his side.

Most of them had finished their first helpings, and Neal was contemplating seconds when Emma broke the quiet. “Hey. You owe me a story.”

Neal blinked, but her eyes were on his father. Rumplestiltskin frowned. “I'm sorry.”

Emma sipped her wine, tipping her chair back just a little. “You. Owe me a story.” She pointed at him. “In the hospital. You told me that if I still wanted to know why you'd pay Henry's price after the curse was broken that you'd tell me.”

Rumplestiltskin stilled, then set his cup down, suddenly drawing in on himself. “I did indeed.”

Emma nodded. “I want to know. Why? Why do this?"

Rumplestiltskin swallowed hard. “It's a bit of a complicated tale.”

“We've got time.” Emma gestured. Everyone else at the table nodded, and Neal found himself leaning forward, watching his father's face.

Rumplestiltskin looked around, gauging each expression. Then he sighed and held up his glass. Neal got the bottle from Snow and refilled it. Rumplestiltskin took a long swallow, then set it back, resignation in his face. “All right.”

He paused a moment, licking his lips nervously. “The story starts around the time Bae was born. I'd been drafted into the army, to fight in the First Ogre War.”

Snow, David and Belle winced. Even Regina looked a little sympathetic. Rumplestiltskin kept his eyes on his glass, voice soft as he spoke. “I wasn't much of a soldier, but I was determined to do my part. I'd been branded a coward all my life, the son of a card cheat and a runaway, so...the war was my chance to escape my father's shadow. Or so I thought. And then, the night before battle, I was given a special assignment to guard a wagon.”

“A wagon?” Neal frowned. He hadn't heard this tale before. His father had never told him about his time in the army.

“Yes. There was a child on the wagon, locked in an iron cage. She asked me for water. I pitied her, so I got some for her. And then she revealed that she was a seer. A true seer. And she told me...” He paused, swallowed hard, and his gaze shifted to meet Neal's. “She told me that you'd been born. That I had a son. And that my actions on the battlefield the following day would leave my son fatherless. And I assumed, at the time, that she meant I would die in battle. The next day.”

Neal held his breath as his father looked away, shame coloring his expression. “I was terrified. Partly of dying, of course, but also of leaving my son without a father. I didn't want my son to grow up without a father, as I had. I didn't want him to feel that his father had chosen glory in battle over him. Of course, given the way things turned out in the end, it might have been better.” His shoulders shifted in a helpless shrug, shame on his face.

Neal caught his father's hand. “What happened?”

“The time for battle approached. Everything the seer predicted would lead up to my death began to come true. And I was desperate not to abandon you. Desperate not to die. So I...” He shuddered. “I shattered my leg with a mallet. That night. The army branded me a coward and sent me away, and I came home to you.”

“Holy crap.” The words were Emma's, but the sentiment was one Neal could fully understand. After all, he shared it. And from the looks around the table, he wasn't the only one.

He'd never heard how his father had been crippled, and the story of it shocked him to his bones.

Rumplestiltskin kept speaking, the words escaping him. “Of course, it went wrong. I was there for my son, but I wasn't a father he could be proud of. Fourteen years later, I made a deal I didn't understand, and became cursed, became the Dark One. Two years after that, I let my boy fall into another realm alone. The seer's prophecy came true. I left my son without a father.”

“Papa...” Neal started to speak, then stopped as Rumplestiltskin shook his head. It hurt for a moment, but then he understood. This was hard for his father. There'd be time enough to talk about what he'd just revealed, after he was done, but right now the story had to be finished before his father's fragile courage gave way.

Rumplestiltskin swallowed hard. “After I lost Bae, I went looking for the seer who'd given me the original prophecy. I found her. I demanded to know whether or not I'd find my son again. She told me about the curse. That I would write it, but neither cast it nor break it. She told me that if I wished to know more, the price was that I would take her powers from her. So I did. And in return, after she had passed the burden of foresight on to me, she gave me my answer.”

He paused, then raised his eyes to look at Emma, and at Henry. His eyes were full of wonder and regret in equal measure. “She told me I would find my son. That a boy would lead me to him. And...she told me that the boy who led me to my son would become my own undoing.”

Henry sat back, surprise on his young face. “Me.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, and the regret intensified. “You.” He sighed. “At the time, nothing mattered to me but finding Bae. I certainly didn't care about the identity of the boy. And I was too impatient, too arrogant, to consider what I'd been told about seeing the future.”

Emma frowned. “What's that?”

“That the future is like a puzzle. Or a jumble of them. It's confusing, and often there are pieces missing. It changes, and no matter how hard you look, the full picture of it is almost never what you think it is, or what you think it will be. So...I knew, when we went to New York, when I found Bae, that Henry was to be my undoing.”

He shook his head. “I didn't know, until that moment, until you told me Miss Swann, that the boy meant to be my destruction was also my grandson.”

Regina frowned. “Knowing you, that must have created quite the conundrum.”

“Quite.” Rumplestiltskin sighed again. “When the seer told me that fact, the answer seemed obvious. Use the boy to find my son, then dispose of him in some way that would make it impossible for him to destroy me. When it became apparent that the boy would be Henry, I was...conflicted. He wasn't dangerous. I was faced with the possibility of hurting a boy I'd watched grow up, a young man I knew to be a good, kind young man. The boy who'd helped break my curse to come here. I've never been one to hurt children, so...I was conflicted. And then, the truth came up. Not just a boy I knew, Henry was blood, was family to me. And if there is one thing I have refused to do, in all my years as the Dark One, it was harm family.”

He fell back against his chair. “So...I had a choice. To break my vow, the last bit of morals I had left, and protect myself, or to protect Henry, at whatever cost to myself there might be.” He met Neal's eyes, then Henry's. “I won't lie. Self-preservation is a habit of mine, as strong as my instinct to protect my family. And I was afraid that I'd found my son, only to lose him to my own destruction. Those truths...terrified me, honestly. In a way, Hook's attack was almost a blessing. It gave me someone else to be afraid of.”

He took a deep breath, speaking now to his grandson. “And then you were cursed. And I knew I was facing that choice all over again. I knew I could let you die. No one would even blame me. All I had to do was keep quiet. Or...I could save you, knowing the eventual cost. I wish I could say I didn't have to think about it, but I did.”

“And then you decided to save me.”

“I did. Because you are my family. My grandson. I became the Dark One to protect my family and, for all my life since, that truth has been the only thing that has preserved even a shred of human decency in me. No matter what it cost, I couldn't break that promise to myself. Besides, I promised myself I'd never do anything to abandon or hurt my son again. And your death would have done so. I realized, when I thought about it, that you would be my undoing either way. I wasn't choosing to live or die, I had to choose which one of me you would destroy. The Dark One, or the man I once was. And so...”

“You chose to break the Dark One.” Henry's expression cleared.

“I did. I wish it had been an easier choice. And I wish I could tell you that it was an easy sacrifice. But...I can't tell you that honestly. All I can tell you is that I...I made the choice willingly. And that, in spite of all my fears and all my foolishness, I truly do care about you, Henry. I'm glad you are who you are.”

Henry grinned, then jumped up from his seat and wrapped his arms around his grandfather. “So am I. And I'm really glad you chose to be the good guy, rather than the Dark One. I'm glad I could help break your curse, even if I did nearly die.”

“Thank you.” Rumplestiltskin returned the hug.

“That was...not what I was expecting.” Emma took a gulp of her wine. Then she glared at him. “You were going to kill my kid?”

“I wish I could say the thought never crossed my mind.” Rumplestiltskin winced. “The Dark One's Curse changed much in me, Miss Swan. There was a time when I wouldn't have raised my hand or my voice to any man, much less a child. But...the curse made of me a monster. Or perhaps it only unleashed the one that was there all along. I'd like to believe that I would never have truly hurt Henry, but I also know that, in the wrong frame of mind, I am capable of doing a great number of foolish and terrible things.”

Emma considered that. Then she shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess that's true of all of us. I almost left Hook to get eaten by an ogre while Mary Margaret and I were in the Enchanted Forest. And since you didn't hurt Henry, or leave him to die...I guess it doesn't matter. What you did, saving him and cursing yourself, does.”

“That's right. Everyone's capable of terrible things in the right circumstances. It's not what we could do, but we actually decide to do that counts.” Snow nodded.

“Thank you.” Rumplestiltskin was staring at Neal, and Neal could read the unspoken question in his eyes.

He laid a hand on his father's arm. “They're right.” He saw the relief in his father's eyes as the older man finally relaxed.

“Thank you.” Rumplestiltskin exhaled, warmth and life returning to his face, though a shadow remained in his eyes.

Henry tilted his head back, loosening his grandfather's embrace just enough to look him in the eyes. “So...now that we've cleared everything up...” His eyes glittered hopefully. “This is supposed to be a celebration, right? Cause...I could really go for some cake and ice cream, or maybe a milkshake at Granny's.”

Regina sighed. Snow, David and Belle smirked. Emma pulled an exasperated face. Neal laughed, surprised and delighted when his father's warm chuckle joined his own.

Rumplestiltskin laughed quietly for a moment, then ruffled his grandson's hair. “I think that sounds like a fine idea. And if everyone else agrees, I'll even pay for it this time.”

“If that's the case, I am definitely in.” David grinned.

Regina shrugged, nonchalance failing to cover the amused sparkle in her eyes. “I could be persuaded.”

Emma set the last of her wine aside. “Sounds great.”

Neal smirked and shoved himself to his feet, then offered his father a helping hand. “Looks like we're all agreed.” He studied his father's face. “Please, please tell me you've at least tried an ice cream sundae.”

“I...” Rumplestiltskin blinked. “I never had much occasion...”

“Well, you're trying one now. Or you and Belle can split one.” From the way his father and Belle both brightened, he thought he had a winner. “Come on, let's go get those coats and keys. Cause your Caddy is just begging for you to drive it.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled, then vanished into the sitting room. Neal watched him go, moving out of the way as everyone else shrugged into coats and grabbed purses or, in Emma's case, stuffed a wallet and key ring back into her pockets.

Rumplestiltskin returned a few moments later, and Neal grinned. His father had removed the restricting suit jacket, vest and tie. He'd even unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, making him look far more relaxed in the casual jacket he'd donned. The result was a man who looked something like Storybrooke's Mr. Gold, and something like a better dressed version of the spinner that Neal remembered from his childhood. Well woven cotton and linen had replaced the rough homespun of his youth, but the style was more to his father's taste.

He looked like the man Neal, the man Baelfire of long ago, had always dreamed he could be. Open, relaxed, smiling at his family as they bantered about who would ride in which vehicle. His shoulders were straight, not bowed by shame and the necessity of balancing burdens against a crippling limp. His eyes were clear, warm as they had been only during quiet nights in the hut, when Rumplestiltskin spun and told his son stories by the fire-light, then tucked him in.

It had taken three hundred years, two curses, True Love, a savior and a son and grandson. But watching his father, Baelfire knew.

At long last, they were both finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. Thanks to folks who have followed the journey this far. I don't know if there will ever be a sequel for this work. There is potential for one, but the story hasn't pounced on me yet, so...we'll see.  
> And yes, I do know that wine is NOT a great choice for barbecue. But the characters did their own thing there. And Henry had milk.

**Author's Note:**

> Because fever dreams inspire some serious stuff...


End file.
